Tank is gone. We put him down on Friday, October 5, 2018.
He'd reached the point where, we think, he had a brain tumor and the boy we'd known was no longer around. He was not able to walk in a straight line, just tight circles to the left. We really had to work hard to get him to eat and he know no longer knew whether he was inside to know where it was the right place to pee or poop.
We were there with him at the end and he's buried in the backyard. He joins: Pypn, Avalon, Hobeaux, Ella, and Strider in the memorial area.
I had been looking for a cat to add to our menagerie and discovered Vlad down at a rescue facility in Kingsville. As a lark, I checked out their dogs in case they had one who would be a good match for Jack. I saw Tank (then called Tinker) on the web and called Kim in to take a look. I don't remember if I called down there or not, but we loaded Jack into his carrier and made the trip down south.
We arrived in Kingsville and I went to look at Vlad. We asked them to brink Tank up (he was fostered at a nearby home). By the time I'd decided on Vlad, Tank was at the facility. He and Jack did well together, but Tank was not a big fan of me. A fan of Kim, but not me.
After a little socializing and discussion, we decided we wanted to bring Tank home.
Animal Rescue of Kingsville had a policy at that time that anyone rescuing a dog had to have a fenced in yard. We, at that time, did not but it was in the works. After considering that we lived in Houston and that we'd been conscientious enough to bring Jack down to meet him, they agreed to let us take him home.
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| This is one of the earliest pictures I have of him. |
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| One of the last pictures of Tank |
We got home without any issue from Tank (Jack threw up at least once on the ride home) and he quickly became a part of the family.
We made some deductions that Tank was rescued from a home in which the owner was male, smoked, and probably beat Tank with a belt. He eventually warmed up to me, but it took a number of years.
Tank and Jack joined together to form the GeoDogs. They would join us when we went geocaching in local parks and had a great time exploring. Tank had a very direct mindset: If I can see a way through, I can make my way through. We called him the Brawn to Jack's Brain.
During the early years, we also did some agility with both of them. Tank probably could have done well, but we were good enough to achieve success with him. He had too much Beagle in him for us to overcome. The one trial we took him to he made it through a couple of obstacles and then went to sniff the cows, the judge, and the fence. He had a great time doing his own version of agility.
We also called him "The Roach". When he finally felt comfortable with us, and when he was really tired, he would sleep on the couch on his back, with his feet in the air. We would say: "the Roach has popped."
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| The closest to The Roach that we have. |
Our house was burglarized in 2007. In the course of the burglary, the perpetrators let the dogs out. Jack was discovered on a neighbors lawn shortly thereafter, but Tank was not. Two days later, he showed up at our back door dirty, tired, and happy. When we looked him over, the pads on his feet were worn raw. We figured he'd been running non-stop for the past 48 hours up and down the creek beds.
Tank loved his walks. We'd get home from one and he would be more revved up and ready to go for another one. There was one stretch of our usual walk that Tank would hop up on the curb and walk on the cement curb. Because of the resemblance to walking on a balance bean, we would call him Nadia Tankanichi.
Tank also hated, and did not fear, snakes. There were at least three instances where a snake got into the paddock (the fenced in portion of our backyard) and Tank killed it. He would grab them behind their head and shake his head until their spines were broken and blood was flying everywhere. We would have to bathe him immediately as he was covered in blood. (Jack would stand on the sidelines and cheerlead)
Goodbye, Tank. You were, and are, loved. You've left a hole that will never be filled.
