23
Feb

oh-happilyeverafterxo:

d4untles-s:

10000steps:

sayhellotoskinnyme:


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.I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “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. He knew something was different.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 hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’tmatter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.He’s up on his shots. 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. 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 that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not 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. 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 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 heloved 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 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. 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 SilverStar 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 myface 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.”

Not thinspo, but deserves a reblog. Makes me cry everytime.

This made me cry too….

omg, Im in tears right now!


Oh, hi tears.

Probably the saddest thing I’ve ever read.

oh-happilyeverafterxo:

d4untles-s:

10000steps:

sayhellotoskinnyme:

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.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “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. He knew something was different.

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 hoards 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.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”

He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. 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. 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 that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not 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. 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 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.

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 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. 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.”

Not thinspo, but deserves a reblog. Makes me cry everytime.

This made me cry too….

omg, Im in tears right now!

Oh, hi tears.

Probably the saddest thing I’ve ever read.

(via isitoctoberyett)

03
Jan

urbanfiltered:

d-i-s-n-3-y-m-a-g-i-c:

hip-hip-poohray:

Can we talk about how unbelievably adorable Winnie the Pooh is? I mean look at him all snuggled up under his blanket for safety! 

Why has he got rifle?

to keep away the heffalumps and woozles you moron

urbanfiltered:

d-i-s-n-3-y-m-a-g-i-c:

hip-hip-poohray:

Can we talk about how unbelievably adorable Winnie the Pooh is? I mean look at him all snuggled up under his blanket for safety! 

Why has he got rifle?

to keep away the heffalumps and woozles you moron

(via long-lost-freedom)

View in High-Res

01
Jan

ser-te:

glamorous 

ser-te:

glamorous 

(via uneffervescent)

28
Dec

thatfunnyblog:


Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 
Zoom Info
thatfunnyblog:


Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 
Zoom Info
thatfunnyblog:


Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 
Zoom Info
thatfunnyblog:


Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 
Zoom Info
thatfunnyblog:


Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 
Zoom Info
thatfunnyblog:


Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 
Zoom Info

thatfunnyblog:

Jennifer returned to filming an Oscar winner. Do you treat her differently? (x)

Funny Stuff you like? 

(Source: peetahales)

27
Dec

Feeny ♡
Zoom Info
Feeny ♡
Zoom Info
Feeny ♡
Zoom Info
Feeny ♡
Zoom Info
Feeny ♡
Zoom Info

Feeny ♡

(Source: BuzzFeed, via lolzpicx)

25
Dec

adriofthedead:

pyopyon:

jamesisrambling:

Biggest Nope I’ve Seen To Date

"Did you just catch that?"

I like that the batter actually looks impressed

adriofthedead:

pyopyon:

jamesisrambling:

Biggest Nope I’ve Seen To Date

"Did you just catch that?"

I like that the batter actually looks impressed

(via packthegoodleavetherest)

24
Dec

foreverinyoeyezz:

30-9-96:

lolsofunny:

Australian model caught distracted during a photo shoot when the first plane hit tower 1. What an epic photo.
It’s so weird to think that normal things were happening on 9/11. People were walking their dogs, riding their bikes, models were doing photoshoots… and the planes hit. 
One of my favorite pictures on Tumblr.
holy shit
i wonder what was going through her head at that moment

wow

if i was that model..i would be freaking out and not just you know sitting there like watching a flying cat

foreverinyoeyezz:

30-9-96:

lolsofunny:

Australian model caught distracted during a photo shoot when the first plane hit tower 1. What an epic photo.

It’s so weird to think that normal things were happening on 9/11. People were walking their dogs, riding their bikes, models were doing photoshoots… and the planes hit. 

One of my favorite pictures on Tumblr.

holy shit

i wonder what was going through her head at that moment

wow

if i was that model..i would be freaking out and not just you know sitting there like watching a flying cat

(Source: vans-supreme, via forever90s)

24
Dec

one-good-turn-after-another:

Run Hard.

one-good-turn-after-another

one-good-turn-after-another:

Run Hard.

one-good-turn-after-another

(Source: , via showjumperr)

View in High-Res

24
Dec

(Source: bombproofpony, via breee07)

24
Dec


LotR stills → 2-?

Again with the facial expressions, Legolas.

LotR stills  2-?

Again with the facial expressions, Legolas.

(via keepcalmandride-on)

24
Dec

pasturemud:

knocked-rail:

blahblahshaw:

saveahorse-justrun:

do you ever go to throw a fork full of shit into the wheelbarrow and it catches on the edge and shit goes flying everywhere and you just 

image

Wow this hits close to home.

this

I FUCKING HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS

(via leadrope)

24
Dec

horsep0rn:

Albury Wodonga cutting, November 2011 (by Sascha Richardson)

horsep0rn:

Albury Wodonga cutting, November 2011 (by Sascha Richardson)

(via leadrope)

View in High-Res

24
Dec

(Source: equine-hourglass, via leadrope)