Reggie

[reddog]

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

couldn't hurt. 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.

For some reason, his stuff

(except for the tennis

balls - he wouldn't go anywhere without two stuffed in

his mouth) got tossed in

with all of my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn't

really think he'd need all

his old stuff, that I'd get him new things once he

settled in. but it became

pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn't going to.

I tried the normal

commands the shelter told me he

knew, ones like "sit" and "stay" and

"come" and "heel," and he'd follow

them -

when he felt like it. He never really seemed to listen when

I called his name -

sure, he'd look in my direction after the fourth of

fifth time I said it, but

then he'd just go back to doing whatever. When I'd

ask again, you could almost

see him sigh and then grudgingly obey.

This just wasn't going

to work. He chewed a couple

shoes and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern

with him and he resented

it, I could tell. The friction got so bad that I

couldn't wait for the two weeks

to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search mode for

my cellphone amid

all of my unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the

stack of boxes for the

guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the

"[PoorWordUsage] dog probably

hid it on me."

Finally I found it, but

before I could punch up the

shelter's number, I also found his pad and other toys

from the shelter.. I

tossed the pad in Reggie's direction and he snuffed it

and wagged, some of the

most enthusiasm I'd seen since bringing him home. But

then I called, "Hey,

Reggie, you like that? Come here and I'll give you a

treat." Instead, he sort of

glanced in my direction - maybe "glared" is more

accurate - and then gave a

discontented sigh and flopped down. With his back to me.

Well, that's not going

to do it either, I thought.

And I punched the shelter phone number.

But I hung up when I saw

the sealed envelope. I had

completely forgotten about that, too. "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

could only be opened by

Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it.

If you're reading this, it

means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab

after dropping him off

at the shelter. He knew something was different. I have

packed up his pad and

toys before and set them by the back door before a trip,

but this time... it's

like he knew something was wrong. And something is wrong...

which is why I have

to go to try to make it right.

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 hordes

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 it, so be careful -

really don't do it by any roads. I made that mistake

once, and it almost cost

him dearly.

Next, commands. Maybe the

shelter staff already

told you, but I'll go over them again: Reggie knows the

obvious ones - "sit,"

"stay," "come," "heel." He

knows hand signals: "back" to turn around and go

back

when you put your hand straight up; and "over" if

you put your hand out right or

left. "Shake" for shaking water off, and

"paw" for a high-five. He does "down"

when he feels like lying down - I bet you could work on

that with him some more.

He knows "ball" and "food" and

"bone" and "treat" like nobody's

business.

I trained Reggie with

small food treats. Nothing

opens his ears like little pieces of hot dog.

Feeding schedule: twice a

day, once about seven in

the morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular

store-bought stuff; the

shelter has the brand.

He's up on his shots.

Call the clinic on 9th Street

and update his info with yours; they'll make sure to

send you reminders for when

he's due. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good

luck getting him in the car

- I don't know how he knkows when it's time to go

to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some

time. I've never been

married, so 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.

Which means that this

transition is going to be

hard, with him going to live with someone new.

And that's why I need

to share one more bit of info

with you....

His name's not Reggie.

I don't know what made

me do it, but when I dropped

him off at the shelter, I told them his name was 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. For me to do

that, it seemed so final,

that handing him over to the shelter was as good as me

admitting that I'd never

see him again. And if I end up coming back, getting him,

and tearing up this

letter, it means everything's fine. But if someone else

is reading it, well...

well it means that his new owner should know his real name.

It'll help you bond

with him. Who knows, maybe you'll even notice a change

in his demeanor if he's

been giving you problems.

His real name is Tank.

Because that is what I

drive.

Again, if you're

reading this and you're from the

area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the

shelter that they couldn't

make "Reggie" available for adoption until they

received word from my company

commander. 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 the the shelter... in

the "event"... to tell

them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my

colonel 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.

Well, this letter is

getting to downright

depressing, even though, frankly, I'm just writing it

for my dog. I couldn't

imagine if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family.

but still, 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 and that he will adjust and come to love you

the same way he loved

me.

That unconditional love

from a dog is what I took

with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless,

to protect innocent

people from those who would do terrible things.... and to

keep those terrible

people from coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in

order to do it, I am

glad to have done so. He was 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. I don't

think I'll say another

good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the first time.

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 *censored*ed 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 in the next room.

And when he came back, he

had three tennis balls in

his mouth.

[Big R]

Good story. I like it when it was posted a month ago also.

[croixflats]

Thanks reddog I didnt get to read it a month a go very nice but hard to clear this knot in my throat.

'

The story sure puts things in perspective on so many levels.

[reddog]

Sorry, didnt know it was posted earlier.

[crothmeier]

Big R your comment was flat out rude. i didnt see it last month. apparantly others didnt either. Thanks for the read reddog

[Surface Tension]

crothmeier, it wasn't so rude.

The story is just that, a story someone made up.

[crothmeier]

sorry i blew up. it baffles me that someone would make up a story like this.