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Today, I received a very touching letter from a fan too cute ... This story touched me a lot and I decided to share you ... This is the story of a girl 6 years and their parents. One day, doctors learned her parents that the girl had a tumor. Saddened by the situation, they ask the girl what she wants most in the world. It answered a dog. A few days later, the family adopted a puppy that the little girl named Camelle. Camelle was the perfect dog for this family. The girl grew up in to rate this puppy and become a woman of 19 years. This woman knew that this dog was a dog, but he had become, over time, his sister, his confidant and friend. One day, the woman told the veterinarian that the dog had a tumor and that he would soon die. After a final day with Camelle, adult daughter became lost a loved one to her. Crying all the tears in her heart, she continued her life, without ever forgetting that puppy that marked his childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. It will remain forever etched in his memory and in his heart ...
Caline today entered the life of the girl probably an angel sent by Camelle puisqu`elle continues the mission of the latter is to always be the girl for the other part of the way of life .... ...


They told me that big black Labrador named "Reggie" while I observed lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, and the people who worked there were sympathetic air. That was just six months I had just moved into this small college town, but I have found that people were very warm and welcoming. Everyone said hello when you cross the street. But one thing still missing in my new life in this peaceful place, and I told myself that adopting a dog does not hurt me. That would make me a little company. And I saw the announcement of Reggie in a local newspaper. People from the shelter said they had received many calls, but the people who had come so far does not seem to be their "people in Labrador," to use their words. They must have thought I was the right person. But at first, I quickly went to the obvious and I thought they had misjudged me by giving me Reggie and objects that belonged to him, which consisted of a small niche, a toy bag, the Most were still new tennis balls, his bowl, and a sealed letter from his former owner. In fact, Reggie and I did not particularly hooked, once back at home. It was a hassle for two weeks (the time that people from the shelter asked me to give him to get used to his new home) .Can be that I too would have required that I m ​​' used to. Maybe he and I were, in fact, a little too similar ...
I do not know why, but his business (except tennis balls he was not going anywhere without being swallowed up two in his mouth) found themselves in a corner with the rest of the boxes that I had not yet unpacked. I told myself it would not really need all the old stuff, I would buy him new toys when it would get better. But I quickly realized that it would not. First I tried to tell him the words that people from the shelter told me he knew as "sit," "stay here" "come here" and listened to - well, when he took it the envy. He never seemed to really listen to me when I called her name - of course, he vaguely looked to me after the fourth or fifth time, but almost immediately he resumed the course of his business. When I called again, one could almost hear him sigh believed before he finally obeyed reluctantly. I knew it would not be possible. He chewed two pairs of shoes and destroyed one of my boxes. I was perhaps a little too cold with him, and I knew he was feeling it. This does not fit all of us, to the point that I finally look forward to the end of the second week to bring it to the shelter. In time, I frantically looking for my phone in the middle of my boxes. I remembered that I had left on one of the boxes of the guest room, but I said through my teeth cynically that "damn mutt has probably eaten".
Finally, I found the phone but before he could enter the shelter issue, I found her basket and other toys. I threw the basket in the direction of Reggie, and this is where he started sniffing and tail wagging. It was the first time I saw him so excited, but when I called him, he gave me a blank look and he lay down on the ground. Turning my back. Well, it will not work out like that, I thought. So I dialed the number. But I hung up immediately when I saw the sealed envelope. That, too, I had completely forgotten. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your old master has advice to give me." To him who adopt my dog: Well, I can not really say I'm glad that you read this letter, which I have entrusted to the shelter, saying that it could be opened by the new master of Reggie. I'm not happy to have to write it. If you read this, it means I have just returned from my last road trip with my dog, having left the shelter. He knew that this time something was different. I've already packed all his belongings and put them in the trunk of the car, but this time ... It's as if he knew something was wrong. And something's wrong ... that's why I have to do everything so that everything goes well. Then let me tell you about some of my Labrador, in the hope that it helps you make friends both. First, you shall have noticed, he loves tennis balls. The more he has, the more he is happy. Sometimes I wonder s-it is not crossed with a squirrel, saw how he likes to collect. He usually always has two stuffed in his mouth, and he tries to make a third go. So far, it has never succeeded. You can launch or do you want, he will chase after - so be careful not to close a road. I made that mistake once, and he very nearly being run over. Then there are the words he knows. The people of the refuge you may have already said, but he knows the most-routine word "sit", "stay there", "come here." He also knows how to give the leg and is responsive to the signs of the hand. He "lying" when he wants - but I'm sure you can work it with him. He knows the word "ball", "croquette" and "bones". I prepared by giving small rewards. Best for it opens wide the ears is small pieces of sausage. He is current on his vaccinations. Called the vet to get the folder is a good guy and he will remind you when to bring it there. But be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck to bring them up in the car (I do not know how he knows when we take you there, but believe me, he knows!) Finally, let him time to adjust. I've never been married, so it's always been just me and him since he was born. He followed me everywhere, so if you can, bring the car with you when possible. He's used, it is clean and does not bark. He loves to go out and spend time with people, and me in particular. This means that the transition will be very hard for him, since he never lived in another house than mine. And that's why it's time I told you the truth and I give you some more information ...
His name is Reggie. I do not know why I did that, but when I left the shelter, I told them that his name was Reggie. I have just not been able to tell them his real name. If I did, it would have seemed so extreme that it would have been like admitting that I never see him again. And if I come back, I recovered and I tear this letter, it will mean that all is well. But if you're reading this, then ... then that means that the new owner must know his real name. It will help you tie you friends with him. Who knows, maybe you will notice some changes, if he asks you problems in the beginning. His real name is Tank. Because that's what I drive. If you read this message and you live in the area, maybe you will read my name in the papers. I told the guys from the shelter they do not offer "Reggie" adoption as long as they have not received a call from the commander of my company. You see, my parents left, I have no brothers and sisters, to whom I could confide Tank ... And the only request I made to the army when they announced my deployment Iraq was to prevent the refuge ... in case of an "accident" ... to tell them that Tank was ready to have a new master. Fortunately, Colonel also love dogs, and he knew towards where my division was sent. He gave me his word that he would deal personally. And if you're reading this, then it means he has kept his word. Well, sorry, this letter gets really depressing though, frankly, I write just for my dog. I can not imagine what it would have been if I had to do for a woman and children ... but still, Tank was my only family in the last six years. And now, I hope you will know make a place in your family to you, he will get used and it will eventually love you just as it has been m loving. This unconditional love is what I brought with me as an inspiration to donate myself to protect others. If I had to give up Tank to do, so I am happy to make that sacrifice. It was for me an example of love and devotion. I hope I have honored my commitment to my front comrades. All right, enough is enough. Tonight, I would be sent to the front, and I still drop this letter to the shelter. I do not think I would go to say goodbye to tank again. I have cried enough the first time. Maybe I will slip just a look to see if he finally managed to put this third tennis ball in his mouth. Good luck with Tank. Take care of him and give him a pat on top of me every night to say good night. Thank you, Paul Mallory I folded the letter, and I carefully placed back in the envelope. Of course I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. A kid's corner, died in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously awarded the Cross of Honor for saving three of his companions before dying. Flags were at half mast throughout the summer. I leaned forward, elbows on knees, and I looked at the dog.
"Hey, Tank," I whispered. The dog's head suddenly straightened, her ears are erect and his eyes lit up.
"Come here." He was standing with his nails rattled on the floor. He sat in front of me, his head, as if trying this name that he had not heard for months.
"Tank," I whispered. His tail began to beat the air. I continued to whisper the name, again and again, and each time, his ears lowered a little, her gaze softened and his body relaxed while a wave of happiness seemed to pass through. I rubbed his ears, I scratched his back, I buried my face in his fur while pressing it against me.
"It's me, Tank, just you and me. Your old friend has entrusted to me. "Tank stretched head and licked my cheek. "So you want to play ball?" His ears are then compiled once. "Huh? The ball? You like that, huh? The ball? "Tank tore my arms and disappeared with a bound into the other room. When he returned, three tennis balls were held in his mouth.






Labrador SirLeduc Duclos,QC, 819-456-1225En