BEST DOG STORY EVER They told me the big black Lab's name as 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 or 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 up a couple of 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 cell phone 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 "damn 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 Whoever 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 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 them, so be careful. 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, too:"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 knows 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, 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. 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 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 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, too, 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 take 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 to the U.S. If I have to give up Tank in order to do it, 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. 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 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.

Can God speak through a Dog to remind us of the sacrifices made for our freedom And those made for our salvation?

Dogs can read us like a book so can God

Ever notice that your dog can tell what is up even before you communicate with him?  It is a well documented phenomenon that a dogs ability to read human emotions and intentions is among the best of all of God’s creatures. 

In a recent book I finished “What a dog sees and hears”, hundreds of dogs are tested to read their masters facial expressions alone with remarkable accuracy.  Any dog owner will regale you with stories of their friends extra love and affection on a day spent home sick in bed or their extra excitement then they can see in your face it is time to go for a walk.

Could God again have sent us an every day reminder that he knows our thoughts even before we do.  I think he reads more than just our facial expressions and thoughts.  He sees clear in to our thoughts and intentions yet leaves us the right to be wrong.

Like my dog Hunter, I think he is sad when we don’t make the right choice.

Dear God: Why do humans smell the flowers, but seldom, if ever, smell one another?

Dear God: When we get to heaven, can we sit on your couch? Or is it still the same old story?

 Dear God: If a dog barks his head off in the forest and no human hears him, is he still a bad dog?

 Dear God: We dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent ID's, electromagnetic energy fields, and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?

Dear God: Let me give you a list of just some of the things I must remember to be a good dog.

1. I will not eat the cats' food before they eat it or after they throw it up.

2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell. 3. The Litter Box is not a cookie jar. 4. The sofa is not a 'face towel'.

5. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad's underwear when he's on the toilet. 6. Sticking my nose into someone's crotch is an unacceptable way of saying 'hello'.

7. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house - not after.

8. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt.

9. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch. 10. The cat is not a 'squeaky toy' so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it's usually not a good thing.

Eating Healthy

Take a look at the photo of Hunter the dog. See any fat? Me ether. His food is down for him to eat 24 hours a day 7 days a week and yet he eats only when he is hungry. On days when he works out a lot in the field chasing bumpers or making long swimming retrieves he will sometimes eat as much as twice his normal amount. Yet he is never over weight.

Hunter will not eat to keep from getting hungry or eat just in case he is not fed tomorrow. Each day is a new game, a new experience and he deals with every day as it comes along.

Why then do we over eat sometimes? Why am I in the middle of a diet to drop the extra 10 pounds I have put on since we started the restaurant?

Sometimes eating is more than God meant it to be by us. We are glutinous, eat more than we need and eat when we are not hungry. For me I know I eat more than I should on days I have not exercised. The end result I carry as a reminder of my bad behavior, each time I get dressed, God reminds me that it is not the dryer making my clothes smaller but my behavior doing it.

Yet all I have to do is again look to my gift from God to remind me that while dinner time is an important family time to be together, God is to be the center of the table, not the food. More is not always better and less can be so much more.

I love cooking and eating but what I need to remember is that portion control based on my activity level each day. Something Hunter can do but I struggle with.

Thanks again God for the live-in example of moderation.

Give God your Best

Give God your Best

Do your Best my parents always told me. Whatever you choose to do, do it with gusto.

All you have to do is watch Hunter take off for a retrieve in water and you get an idea what enthusiasm is all about. Focused only on the task at hand, running then diving with all his might to get to the bumper as fast as possible and return, tail wagging ready to “Do It Again!” No matter where we go or what we do, he demonstrates his best effort. Holding nothing back this dog is an example to us all to give our very best at whatever we do each and every day.

Have you ever heard of a couch having a halftime pep talk with his players saying, “Get Out There and be Mediocre?” Yet far too often we go through life doing just that, just getting by. Doing just what we need to do move on, get down the road. God again has sent me an instructor to be an example of what excellence looks. How to live every day with enthusiasm, pride and joy.

God expects and deserves our very best. We are instructed to give God the best fruit of our endeavors, the first pick, and our best sacrifice. When we worship can we do any less? Sing with all your heart. Give God the best you can with your songs of praise and do it enthusiastically. Like Hunter

Don’t Worry, Be Happy

Even as God provides the smallest of creatures with everything they need, so much more will he provide for his most loved ones.

During my latest Mission trip to a very remote village high in the mountains of Guatemala, I could not help but notice the abundance of dogs. Scrawny, little, tough looking dogs, everywhere. At first it looked like they were feral. No one fed them, no one claimed them and surely no one cared for them, yet they were everywhere.

The people of the village worked all day getting enough food to take care of their families so why are there dogs in the village? As we worked and played for the week with the wonderful people of Nuevo Santiago Esperanza Maya I started to notice the certain dogs would follow some of the kids and adults where ever they went.

I never saw anyone feed or even pet their dog but none the less it became obvious that they laid claim to individuals. Never were any of them aggressive toward anyone in the village or us. At night you would occasionally here one barking away at something. Perhaps this was the symbiotic relationship that had been developed between these dogs and the villagers over the many years together.

Somehow, each and every dog was getting what they needed to stay alive and continue the habitation with their human friends. They would sleep or relax every chance they got yet at a moment’s notice they would be up and ready to follow or sound an alarm at an intrusion.
Even in the midst of poverty, God has provided for these creatures and not one spent the day worrying where their next meal would come from.

What a great lesson in trust these dogs of Guatemala could share.

Hang Time

Ever wonder what it would be like to have a friend that was Always ready to do whatever you had in mind. Go out and play, take a nap, watch TV or simply just hang out together? That is an exact description of my companion Hunter (the dog).
If I have work to do he is always willing to sit in the office quietly moving with me any time I go up stairs or out to the stock room. When I need a break, he is always ready and willing to take a short walk outside to the field to retrieve as many bumpers or tennis balls I can throw. Go for a walk, take a nap, his response is always “I’m With You”.
In the house, food is always down so he eats only when there is nothing going on. When it is time for me to sleep, he is always at my side, ready to change activities at a moment’s notice.
How much more so is Gods desire to be with us. He is always with us whatever we are doing. Happy to join us if invited and even there when we do not. He sings with us when we rejoice, he sits by our side when we work, penitently waiting for a time when we return our attention to him. When we sleep, he is with us, ready to start the day when ever we awake.
Dog is God’s physical reminder that he is always with us, whatever we do, where ever we go. We are not alone, We live in God’s world and he just wants to Hang Out.