The Story of Reggie

I do not know who the author of this story is, or how long it has been around. It was sent to my dad as an email. He read it to me and I knew I just had to include it as a post on my blog. It is a great story…and according to all the research I have done…it is just that, a story. Snopes claims that it is 97% certain that there is no truth to the story, but that it does show the sacrifices that members of the military have to make when they are sent off to war. So, as a tribute to their sacrifices so that all of us can live in freedom and “do our own thing,” here is the “Story of Reggie.”

"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 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 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 it, 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 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, 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 demeanour 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 to 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 too 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 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. 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 into 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."

I hope you enjoyed the story and that it brought a lump to your throat and a tear to your eye. It did for me!

Thank you to all the men and women of the Military who keep us safe and free.

Until next time,

Teia


PS. Today’s Grandma’s 89th Birthday…Happy Birthday Grandma!

Unusual Pets: Hermit Crabs

Hermit crabs are not related in any way to the marine crabs you see crawling across the beaches of the world. Hermit crabs belong to the super family Paguroidea. They are called Hermit crabs because they like to occupy abandoned seashells. They do this to protect their delicate abdomen from predators. There are nearly 500 species of Hermit crabs in the world and most of them live in water. Wild Hermit crabs traditionally live in large colonies of 100 or more occupants.

When a Hermit crab outgrows its current shell, it abandons the shell and moves into a larger one. While it is searching for a larger shell, a Hermit crab is easy prey for predators. Hermit crabs with well fitting shells grow faster than ones that have tight fitting shells. Ones with tight shells cannot withdraw into the shell as easily or quickly as those with well fitting shells, so they are more vulnerable to predators which flip over the shell and attack the Hermit crab's soft abdomen. Because the availability of abandoned shells depends on the population of gastropods in the area, there is frequently a shortage of shells. This usually leads to Hermit crabs fighting with each other for shells. Very rarely do Hermit crabs voluntarily trade shells with each other. When a Hermit crab selects a new shell, it is usually at least one-third larger than their current shell.

Hermit crabs have a tough exoskeleton which covers most of their body, except for their soft abdomen. Therefore, to grow, the Hermit crab has to shed its exoskeleton and grow another one. This process is known as molting. During the molting process, which lasts approximately two weeks, the Hermit crab buries itself in gravel and becomes inactive. Small Hermit crabs molt about once a month and larger ones about once every eighteen months.

Hermit crabs are now being kept as exotic pets because as well as being interesting, they require the least amount of maintenance of all the exotic pets. They seldom grow bigger than a large peach, so they can be kept in a normal aquarium. In the last number of years, many species of Hermit crabs have become part of the marine aquarium trade. Blue legged Hermit crabs, Zebra Hermit crabs, red reef Hermit crabs, common Hermit crabs and red tip Hermit crabs are some of the types which are kept as pets. The most desirable Hermit crab for a pet is the red reef Hermit crab or as it is sometimes called, the scarlet Hermit crab. It is very strikingly coloured, with a bright red body and yellow eye stalks.

Aquatic Hermit crabs live in salt water with salinity ranging from 1.023 to 1.025. The water temperature should be between 75 degrees Fahrenheit and 80 degrees Fahrenheit for species that come from tropical waters, and cooler for ones that come from temperate waters. The gravel bed of the aquarium where they are housed should be fairly deep, full of algae and it should be covered with many different sized and shaped seashells. If Hermit crabs have a large number of shells to choose from, they will change shells frequently. This is very interesting to watch. Other activities such as climbing and digging are also interesting to watch.

Hermit crabs should be fed daily. Their food dishes should be fairly low and flat so that the Hermit crab can easily climb in and out of the dish. Some species of Hermit crabs are herbivorous and some are omnivorous. When you buy your Hermit crab(s) make sure that the seller tells you what kind you have purchased so that when you buy commercial food, you get the kind designed for the crabs you have. You can also add fresh vegetables and fruit to you crab's diet, however, you must ensure that you never leave this fresh produce in your tank for more than 24 hours as it will begin to decay and will contaminate the water, endangering your pet. Should you choose a land Hermit crab, in addition to its daily food, it needs to be sprinkled with lukewarm water for several minutes. The gravel in your tank should be removed and your tank should be washed about once every month or two. While removing the gravel look at it carefully to ensure uneaten commercial food is removed before it becomes toxic from decay. When removing the water, ensure that you save at least half of it for refilling the tank. This ensures that your crab(s) are not stressed by a drastic change in the water. (Note, do not use soap to wash your tank as the residue left behind could be fatal to your crab(s). Use either plain water or water with a few drops of white vinegar in it to wash your tank. If using a water-vinegar wash water, be sure to rinse the tank thoroughly with plain water and dry it out before putting water back into the tank. If the old water looks “grubby” pour it back into the tank through a paper coffee filter to remove the solids).

You can train your Hermit crab(s) to climb onto your hand by holding your open hand, palm up, in front of your pet. If you keep your hand motionless, in a few minutes, your Hermit crab will climb on. It may pinch your palm, but it will usually let go if you stir the water near it with your other hand. If your pet is a land Hermit crab, run your hand with the crab on it, under lukewarm water and it will immediately let go.

Until next time,

Teia