Great Dog Story .. Well Worth Reading !!
The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly.
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 couldn’t hurt.
Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news.
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.
(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.
“Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
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.
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 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 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 honoured 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.
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.
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.
throat or a tear in your eye, you just ain’t right.
front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”
NESARA- Restore America – Galactic News
Source: http://nesaranews.blogspot.com/2017/01/great-dog-story-well-worth-reading.html
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Beautiful heart-warming story; except it isn’t true.