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For anybody who's had some tests at the doctor's office lately...a good story.

  

Your Duck is Dead--


A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet

pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.

 

After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has

passed away."

 

The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?"   "Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the

vet.

 

"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything.

He might just be in a coma or something."


The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black

Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his

front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the

vet with sad eyes and shook his head.


The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with

a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back

on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.


The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably,

a dead duck."


The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.  The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!"


The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the

Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $150."

Subject: Unpaid babysitters !! If you have not received this before, get ready to enjoy what you see!
 
And if you have received it in the past, enjoy it again... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Why Some Men Have a Dog And No Wife:
1. The later you are, the more excited your dogs are to see you.
 
 
 
2. Dogs don't notice if you call them by another dog's name.
 
 
 
3. Dogs like it if you leave a lot of things on the floor.
 
 
 
4. A dog's parents never visit.
 
 
 
5. Dogs agree that you have to raise your voice to get your point across.
 
 
6. Dogs find you amusing when you're drunk.
 
 
 
7. Dogs like to go hunting and fishing.
 
 
 
8. A dog will not wake you up at night to ask, "If I died, would you get another dog?"
 
 
 
 
9. If a dog has babies, you can put an ad in the paper and give them away.
 
 
 
10.. A dog will let you put a studded collar on it without calling you a pervert.
 
 
 
11.. If a dog smells another dog on you, they don't get mad. They just think it's interesting.
 
 
 
 
And last... but not least:
 
 
12. If a dog leaves, it won't take half of your stuff.
 
 
 
 
 
...To test this theory...
...Lock your wife and your dog in the garage for an hour...
...Then open it and see who's happy to see you.

A Black Lab

 

 

Great Dog Story -- Well Worth Reading!!

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. 

If you can read this without getting a lump in your

throat or a tear in your eye, you just ain't right.

 

Inner peace is:

 

If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,

 

If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,

 

If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,

 

If you can understand when your loved ones
are too busy to give you any time,

 

If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

 

If you can relax without alcohol,

If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

 

 

 

 

               

Then You Are Probably The Family Dog!

 

 


And you thought I was going to get all spiritual ...

 

Handle every Stressful situation like a dog. If you can't eat it or play with it, Pee on it and walk away!:-)