"Hello Arthur!" A man waved to me across the street.

I nodded and waved back politely. It seems that everybody knew me here now, figuring I had moved to this small town only three months ago. It was humid and hot constantly, very different from where I was originally was, England. I suppose America wasn't that bad, if you wanted sunburns in places you never thought about.

"Hello Artie!" A small child waved as I passed them. It was only nine in the morning, and yet it was already 70 degrees out. My morning jog usually ended me covered in sweat.

Breathing and exhaling with the beat of my sneakered feet hitting the ground, I jogged around the corner. It was a beautiful morning, the skies blue and not a cloud in sight. The sun just peeking around the side of a mountain.

And it was interrupted by my cellphone ringing at me.

"Hello?" I panted, regaining my breath from jogging.

"Ohononon, did I interrupt something-" An annoying voice sent my blood pressure to the ceiling.

"Bloody Frog." I cursed. "How did you get this number?"

"Your brother gave it to moi. He's nice, unlike you."

"Oh yeah!" I challenged, "name one thing that he has done that didn't involve me."

"Just last night-"

"Stop." My mind thinking ahead for myself.

"-he saved a dog and put it in a shelter." Francis continued. Well. That was certainly unexpected.

"Really." My voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Oui. I was there." If Francis was in front of me, I would imagine him tossing his girly hair to one side at that comment.

"I don't believe you."

"It is true, just as you don't have anyone in your life." Francis sniffed.

"Shut up!"

"Single! You are completely single!" I could hear Francis practically singing at the top of his lungs.

"I do have somebody!" I growled, racking my brain for a name that I supply to Francis. Ann? Beth? No, Francis would see right through them.

"Non, now I do not believe you." Francis laughed.

An idea dawned on me. "I have a dog!" I snapped. "A golden retriever!"

Francis laughed. "At least that is better than a cat!"

"Shut up! He's perfectly good to me!" I growled, almost wanting to hang up on the Frog, but I held back.

"Oui oui. Then I cannot await to see him when I come!"

"What? You don't know where I live!"

"Tsk tsk. Didn't I tell you mon lapin, that your brother was nice?"

I hung up on him. Frog was coming to my sweet nice town to spread stories about me, no doubt. I wanted to grab ahold of his neck and squeeze. First reason, he was coming to this town, and second reason, I'd actually had to get a dog.


"A golden retriever?" The lady at the reception desk paused. She clicked on her computer, searching to see there was one or not. "It's your lucky day, Mr. Kirkland. We have one that is available now."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. I had thought that I was a goner.

"When can I adopt him?" I asked, and the lady just smiled.

"Now if you'd want. Just remember that he needs food and water and plenty of space-" She went on saying what a dog needed. I took a mental list of what I needed, and somewhere inside of me, a small flicker of hope began to burn. This dog could be some type of friend that never really mocked me, or a brother who'd never hit me. This could be something nice, and this dog is something I have never really experienced.

"Just sign right here Mr. Kirkland." She smiled as I proceeded to do so. "The dog needs about two weeks before settling down in a new location. Please call us after that. We also have a box of items left from his old owner. You are now a proud owner of a dog named Sparky."

A dog wouldn't be that challenging. This would be fun.


Who was I kidding? Sparky was just like my brothers. He loved to chew up my slippers, hiding dead animals in my kitchen, and enjoyed ignoring me. It was almost two weeks, and this dog was evil. I had tried to do the usual commands of sit, lay, and shake, but most of the time, Sparky ignored me or did them half way. He always carried two balls in his mouth, dripping drool over my carpet.

I had tossed the box of items in with the other unpacked boxes that I had still yet to unpack. My job was that I had to stay home and write to others, so I was constantly around this rebellious dog.

I couldn't wait for him to go away. He hid important things from me, and we couldn't see eye to eye. It was bad living in this house with him. He didn't want to go jogging with me in the mornings, and would rather spend sitting outside on the porch looking at all the cars passing by. It looked as if that he was waiting for his original owner to come back.

"He won't come back Sparky." I said to him one evening. "If he gave you away, that meant that you were to much of a hassle. Come inside." It was drizzling. Sparky just sat on the porch, his ears pricking up with every car passing the street. "Sparky, in now!" I commanded, pointing to the open door. The only sign that he gave to me was a doggy huff of exasperation. "Sparky." My voice was now a warning.

The dogs tail lifted up and down, smacking against the porch. I sighed. This was it. I was going to call the shelter and get them to take him back. He was nothing but a nuisance. I didn't care if Francis got here and didn't see a dog. I grabbed his collar and dragged the animal inside of the house.

Sparky shook his entire body, droplets flying everywhere. I stopped in my tracks and looked back. Sparky looked smug at me, and I growled. That was it. I stomped off to my room, to grab my cell phone to call the animal shelter.

It wasn't where I had left it. I searched the whole house of places where I had left my phone, but to no avail. I couldn't find it.

"Sparky!" I all but shouted, "you took my phone!" I then began to crawl about on my hands and knees looking for where the dog might have hidden it. The kitchen was clean, and so was under my bed. The other place to look for it was in the massive piles of boxes that still cluttered up my living room. I began to look around, and found the box of items left behind from the previous owner. I had planned on buying new ones for Sparky, but I had never had the urge to when the dog was sassing me.

Sparky was over by the wall, staring out the window as I was going through the boxes. I saw that there was a pad and some other toys, beside an unopened envelope. Tossing the pad over to Sparky, I saw something light up in his blue eyes. His tail wagged and thumped against the wall for some good time before he settled himself down on the worn and stained pad. That had been the most emotion I had ever seen from Sparky.

"Hey Sparky? You want a treat?" I called out to him, and saw his body move closer into the pad. He looked up and glanced- more like a glare- and turned his back to me.

Something silver caught my eye, and I saw my phone laying halfway underneath the couch. I began to pick out the phone number of the shelter, completely done with this animal. Maybe I could get a cat.

Before pressing the green call button, my eyes landed on the unopened envelope from the owners. Canceling the call, I picked up the envelope and gently opened it. I found myself looking at several sheets of messy handwriting, and some of them at water spots on them.

"Okay Sparky, lets see if your previous owner has any advice for you." I said, and began to read the message.

'TO WHOEVER GETS MY DOG'

'If you are reading this, then The Event happened, and Sparky is your new dog. I can't say that I am happy about you reading this. I told the shelter that only the new owner of Sparky could read this letter. I'm not happy writing this. If you are reading this, it means I just got back from the last car ride with Sparky after dropping him off at the shelter. He knew something was different. I packed up his toys and his pad and left them at the door just like we do on all of our trips together, but he knew. Something was wrong. But… I still have to make this right.'

'So let me tell you about my dog so you can have a better relationship, so that you can bond with him, and him with you.'

'First, he loves tennis balls. He can't go anywhere without one in his mouth. The more the merrier. (I think he's part squirrel) He usually has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third one in there. He hasn't done it yet. It doesn't matter where you throw them, he bounds after it. Don't throw it into the road, I had made that mistake one, and he almost payed dearly for it.'

'Next- commands. He knows the usual- as I had told the staff at the shelter. Sparky knows the obvious ones, like "sit","stay","come", and "heel". He also knows hand signals: "back" to turn around while having your right hand in the air, "over" if you put your left or right hand out, "shake" for shaking water off your hand, and "paw" for a high five. He does "down" only when he feels like it, but I think that you could help him with that with a few treats.'

'He knows "ball," "bone," "food," and "treat" like anybodies business. I have train Sparky on small dog treats. Nothing speaks dog to him like small bits of hotdog.'

'Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again about six in the evening. Regular store bought stuff, the shelter has the brand.'

'He's up on his shots, call the vet on 9th street to learn more. They call you up when he needs them again. Be forewarned, Sparky knows when you are about to take him to the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don't know how he knows, but Sparky always knows.'

'Finally, give him some time. I have never been married, and so it has only been me and Sparky his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on car rides. He likes the wind on his face, and he doesn't bark. He enjoys being around other people, me the most.'

'Which means that this transition is going to be hard on Sparky.'

'That's why I need to share one last piece of information with you.'

'His name is not Sparky.'

'I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter I told them that his name was Sparky. He's a smart dog, and he'll get use to it, of that I have no doubt. But I couldn't bear to give them his real name. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that handing him over to the shelter was admitting that I'd never see him again. If I come back, tearing up this letter, and getting him back, it means everything is fine. But if somebody is reading this, well. It means the new owner should know his real name. It'll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you could see a change in his demeanor if he has been giving you problems.'

'His real name is Hero. Because that is what he is to me.'

'Again, if you are reading this and you're from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn't make 'Sparky' available until they received word from my Company Commander. See, my parents are gone and I don't have any siblings, so Hero and I were everything to each other. There was no one to keep him for me, so it was my only request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they made a phone call to the shelter… in The Event… to tell them that Hero was up for adoption. Luckily my colonel is a dog guy too, and he said that he would personally do it. And if you are reading this, then he is good to his word.'

'Well, this letter is just getting depressing now, I was only writing this for my dog. And now, I hope and pray that you make him a part of your family and that he'll adjust to his new surroundings, to love you just as he loved me.'

'The unconditional love from a dog is what I took as I went to Iraq, as an inspiration to do something selfless. To protect innocent people from those who would do terrible things… and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I had to give up Hero in order to do it, then I am glad to do so. He was my example of service and love. I honor him by doing that for my Country and my Comrades.'

'Alright, thats enough. I am deploying this evening, and I have to drop this off at the shelter. I don't think I say another goodbye to Hero, I cried too much the first time. Maybe I'll peek on him to see if he had gotten that third ball in his mouth.'

'Good luck with Hero. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss at night -every night- from me.'

'Thank you,'

'Alfred F. Jones.'

I could only stare at the letter in my hands. I couldn't call the shelter now. My eyes lifted up to stare at the back of the golden retriever. Even now, I could see him looking at the door, waiting for Alfred to get back and save him from me.

But Alfred would never come back. Even though I had only lived in this neighborhood for three months, I had heard his name. He had died saving three of his companions in Iraq, earning a silver star for his act of heroism. The flags had been half mast almost all summer in honor of him.

" Hey Hero." I called out, speaking his real name for the first time.

Heros head lifted and looked at me with a light in his eyes. Seeking the name that he hadn't heard in months. His head tilted.

"Hero." I repeated. Whispering the name over and over again. "Come here boy." The dogs nails clacked on the wood floor as he sat next to me. His head on my knee. We stayed that way for a long time, me whispering his name, and him looking up at me with his eyes softening at every mention of his name. His whole body seemed to be content at me whispering his name, like he was at home again with Alfred. I began to pet his head, and rubbing his shoulders.

"Hey Hero" I said, stroking his ears. "It's just you and me now. We have to depend on each other. Your old pal gave you to me." Hero reached up and licked a tear from my cheek. "What do you say, want to play ball?" His ears perked. " Yeah? Ball? Go get the ball Hero." Hero tore off and disappeared into the next room.

And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.