not a joke--a good story: *******A dog Story ***** They

not a joke--a good story:
*******A dog Story *****
They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at
him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people
really friendly.



I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the
small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves
when you pass them on the street.


But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new
life here, and I thought a dog could give me someone to talk to,
and I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news.
The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after,
but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look
like "Lab people," whatever that meant.
They must've thought I did.


But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie
and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of
which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from
his previous owner.



See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home.
We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give
him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to
adjust, too. Maybe we were too much alike.



I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that.
"Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner
has any advice."



"To Whomever Gets My Dog:
Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter
it could only be opened by Reggie's new owner.
I'm not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you
bond with him and he with you. First, he loves tennis balls.
The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way
he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries
to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you throw
them, he'll bound after them, so be careful. Don't do it by any roads.



Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones ---"sit," "stay," "come,"
"heel." He knows hand signals, too: He knows "ball" and "food" and
"bone" and "treat" like nobody's business. Feeding schedule: twice a
day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.
He's up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck
getting him in the car. I don't know how he knows when it's time to go to
the vet, but he knows. Finally, give him some time. It's only been Reggie
and me for his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please
include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat,
and he doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people,
and me most especially.



And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you. His name's
not Reggie. He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it,
of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn't bear to give them his real name.
But if someone is reading this, well it means that his new owner should
know his real name.
His real name is "Tank." Because, that is what I drive. I told the shelter that
they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word
from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no
siblings, no one I could've left Tank with... and it was my only real request
of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the
shelter, in the "event", to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption.
Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed.
He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on
his word. Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the
Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of
your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me. If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to
the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love.
I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.
All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at
the shelter. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball
in his mouth. Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra
kiss goodnight - every night - from me.
Thank you,
Paul Mallory"
_____________________

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of
Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me.
Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the
Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at
half-mast all summer.



I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring
at the dog. "Hey, Tank," I said quietly. The dog's head whipped up, his ears
cocked and his eyes bright.


"C'mere boy."
He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor.
He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't
heard in months. "Tank," I whispered. His tail swished.


I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered,
his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just
seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.


"It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me."
Tank reached up and licked my cheek.


"So whatdaya say we play some ball?'
His ears perked again.


"Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?"


Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room.
And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.



If you can read this without getting a lump in your throat or a tear
in your eye, you just ain't right.

============================== ========

"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him,
but because he loves what is behind him." G.K. Chesterton

To ALL the veterans, I THANK YOU for your Service to our great Country!