Hello,

I am writing to you regarding my adoption of our wonderful dog “Tank”. Like everyone else searching for a dog, we visited all the local shelters and websites. One Saturday while driving around I suggested that we visit L.A.W.S. On our way down to the basement, the ear piercing barking concerto began and, to my surprise, there was one lonely sad puppy who chose not to participate. Immediately, his silence and solemn look caught my attention, as I liked the idea of a relaxed and somewhat quiet dog. I bent down and motioned for him to greet me and with all the courage he could muster; he crawled over and licked my hand, a definite selling feature. Although he wasn’t jumping up and down in excitement, he stood out and seemed like he had given up on being adopted. We left shortly after and decided that Tank had made our short list.

I had already planned that I would visit any dog that I liked at least 3 times before I made my decision. Upon our next visit, we inquired about Tank to a staff member and were told that he was a 1-year-old puppy who previously had poor living conditions. I must say at this point, that my inquiry about Tank was met with mild tones of shock and disbelief by staff members, I remember hearing “ You want to know about Tank?, you know he’s the tan and white speckled hound right?” Of course this bolstered my curiosity and I started asking about his demeanor as I was beginning to wonder what I got myself into, was he some ferocious cute dog in disguise? Well, nothing could be further from the truth, although he is cute. I then asked if I could take Tank out to the fenced in dog area, upon which I was promptly warned of Tanks strength and his desire to walk you. I also remember thinking…”Why would someone name their dog “Tank”? It seemed like a name that some guy chose to make up for his lack of masculinity. Well…let me tell you why he’s named Tank. At 200 lbs, I’m a fair size guy, but when Tank and I got outside on his leash, I may as well have been a 50 lb child. The sheer strength of that dog was exactly like trying to hold back a full on army tank. Eventually we made it to the dog park, and I freed him of his leash. Gone was the melancholy puppy in the cage and present was this bundle of tremendous energy and excitement. It was raining that day and the grass was quite slippery but that didn’t stop Tank and I from running around and having some fun, until he cut me off and I wiped out in the dirt. We then tried to see if Tank knew any basic commands upon which he blankly stared at us and in turn gave us our answer. However, I was happy to see that Tank had a lot of energy and fun to share with his prospective owner.

I was also warned of Tanks bark, which at that point I had not heard. As we made our way back inside, a cat was visible in a caged in area and this caught Tanks attention. Finally, I thought to myself, I will get to hear this un-godly bark I was warned about…no luck, he stood poised at attention and remained silent. I figured he just isn’t a big barker, GREAT!…just what I wanted. I was certain that Tank was the dog for me at that point and proceeded to tell the staff. The staff member was elated and surprised as she shouted aloud “TANK’S GETTING ADOPTED! TANK’S GETTING ADOPTED! And then she made sure that I knew which dog Tank was (which is quite funny now).

The next Saturday we were scheduled to pick him up and bring him home, which of course, we did. We had bought several toys, treats and food to welcome him to his new home. Upon arrival, he immediately took a tour of his new surroundings and I could tell he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but was very happy nonetheless. During our first few days, I realized that Tank didn’t know how to play with dog toys or wasn’t interested in dog treats, a consequence of his former owner I’m sure. Eventually, he learned the pleasures of both and now will play all day throwing his toys in the air and catching them or doing his best to demolish his latest rawhide bone. Tank also had a crate that was to be used when I had to go out. This is where the infamous “Hound Bark” I was warned about began. I put him in his crate and left the room, upon which a sound like I’ve never quite heard before emitted from my “quiet relaxed” puppy. Now I knew what the staffs were talking about, it was loud and non-stop; Tank had officially been diagnosed with “Separation Anxiety”. Well…after a visit to the vet, a lot of research/ training, and some medication, tank is learning to deal with his anxiety.

There are a ton of funny stories that I could tell about Tank, like how he sleeps on his back, makes funny noises while rubbing his face on the carpet, or maybe even the time he dragged me (fully clothed) into the Otonabee River. Tank basically knew nothing of what a dogs life should be like or basic commands but now he is happier than ever and can sit, stay, lay down, shake a paw, come when called, and his leash walking is far better than it used to be. We both have come along way and it was a lot of training and hard work, more than I had imagined. We have a fantastic relationship and I couldn’t imagine myself owning any other dog, the minute I walk through the door I look forward to seeing him and how happy he is to see me.

I apologize for the timely delay in my update letter but I wanted to write it when Tank and I had achieved a lot of improvement. Thank you so much for your wonderful service, here are some pictures of Tank… just being Tank. I have included his Halloween pictures he was a cowboy and superman. Thank you again, I just cant say enough how much Tank and I appreciate it, I never gave up on him and we couldn’t be happier!

Sincerely yours,

Tank, Jeff, and Trish