A Southern Girl

(I don’t know if this is a true story.. doesn’t really matter to me either way. It’s too touching not to share)

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.

April 19th, 1995 will forever be etched in the memories of millions who watched in horror.  It’s one of those moments in time where you will never forget where you were and what you were doing at the exact moment of hearing the news.  As I sit and watch the National Memorial television coverage today, all of the emotions from that day are instantly brought to the surface.

This isn’t suppose to happen here… and especially at the hands of one of our own.  It’s hard to even imagine that such evil exists.. but sadly it does.

I was sitting in Mr. Brown’s American History class, my Junior year of high school when a friend walking in with tears in her eyes telling us what had happened. Immediately televisions were rolled in to classrooms as we all sat silently watching in disbelief.  The rest of the day seems like a blur… but for me, that moment is one that I will never forget.

The following day.. my Mom, a friend of mine, and I went and volunteered for the Red Cross to help out in any way we could. I remember working in the make-shift supply building that they had set up to organize all of the supplies and donations that were pouring in.  It’s one thing to see it on television…. but it was a very different, chilling experience to see the mangled building live and in person.   I can still see the exhausted search and rescue workers covered in dust and debris… how brave each and every one were.. they are truly heroes.

It was an experience that changed me in a way that is really hard to describe…. it’s one of those times that you feel helpless, but also have the strong need to do something…. how ever small or insignificant it may seem at the time. Just something.  The most vivid memory for me that day wasn’t the sight of the destroyed building, believe it or not… it was when a fireman came to us and asked for all of the large black trash bags that we could find because they had run out of body bags.

It’s true what they say… “What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.”  Oklahoma was forever changed that day… 168 lives lost. Mothers, Fathers, Husbands, Wives, Sons, Daughters, Sisters, Brothers, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Friends… and all of those precious babies. God bless each and every one of you who lost loved ones, and God bless the search and rescue teams and volunteers.. the heroes from that day, and the many that followed…those who walked on 2 legs and the ones who walked on 4.

Never forget.

I chose the first picture they had with Jock, because any true Dallas fan knows that things just weren’t the same after he died.

Ok, most of the people who know me also know that I am a HUGE Dallas nerd. I grew up with J.R., Sue Ellen,  Bobby, Pam, Miss Ellie, Jock and the others who resided at or visited South Fork.  Before the days of VCRs or being able to DVR something, my Mom and Dad were found faithfully in front of our television on a Friday night awaiting the next hour of Ewing drama.  Seriously, we have a photo of when I was younger and Dallas is literally on the screen of our television in the background.

When we lived in Georgia, my Mom remembers that as soon as Dallas was over my Pa Pa would call and discuss J.R.’s latest underhanded dirty dealings from that night’s episode.  It was just another way they stayed connected while living half way across the country from one another…. so when I say “I was born this way”, I really truly was.

That all changed when Bobby died and then returned in the shower.. the whole ‘dream season’ ordeal.. yeah, that was the end of Dallas in our home.  My parents kind of dwindled off after that because it became too much of a soap opera… like it wasn’t all along?

When I was pregnant with my son, they were showing old Dallas reruns on Soap Net and that is when my love for Dallas was rekindled.  I now own all of the DVDs.  Yep, grade A nerd.  My son can even recognize the Dallas theme… I’m just doing my job… the tradition continues.

Soooo, imagine my SURPRISE and EXCITEMENT when they announced that Dallas was coming back to TNT this summer.  I absolutely cannot wait and I really hope it is as good as I would like it to be. I’m trying not to set my expectations too high… you know, don’t wanna set myself up for disappointment and all.   I know nothing will compare to my beloved original, but maybe they’ll do it justice. Either way, I’ll be watching.

The old…. They disabled embedding on the original opening credits.. so, this will have to work.

The new…

Did you get chills just watching it????? No? Oh, well…

I have to add that Lane came in here as I was adding these videos, and said “Hey, that’s Dallas!”  That’s my boy.

DALLAS PREMIERES ON TNT WEDNESDAY JUNE 13TH

Here’s one of those ‘Windshield Sunsets’ Mr. Aldean refers to in his song Fly Over States.  Absolutely gorgeous!

New items added today. Please check out A Southern Girl on Etsy for a complete list of items. This is a pretty new venture, so there are more items to come. I also have T-Shirts, Caps, and some Jewelry I will be added to a ‘for sale’ section on this site.  Don’t forget to like A Southern Girl on Facebook!

I don’t know why this story has affected me so much. Maybe it’s because I am so softhearted when it comes to animals. Maybe it’s because of the cold, callous nature of the crime.  Maybe it’s because I just don’t understand how someone could be so evil… or maybe it’s all of the above.   Regardless of the reasons why, I have followed this story since first hearing about it back in November.

For those who aren’t familiar with the story, here is a little overview.

November 2nd, the Southern Arkansas Rodeo Team had 5 horses, a trailer, and some of their tack stolen.  According to SAU Rodeo Coach Rusty Hayes, a dark-colored Ford truck was seen leaving the stables with a trailer belonging to a rodeo team member earlier in the day.  The witnesses who saw the truck didn’t see any horses in the trailer, and didn’t see anything missing from the stables after checking.   The thieves returned during the night to steal the horses and tack.

As anyone can imagine, the owners of these horses were frantically trying to get the word out in the rodeo community and  in hopes of finding their missing horses.  After searching over a period of 2 weeks, 4 of the 5 horses were found by Coach Hayes and a team member.  The horses were found in a rural wooded area near Tom, Oklahoma tied to pine trees and in very bad shape.  They hadn’t seen food or water since being taken 2 weeks prior.  One of the horses had been spray painted and camouflaged, had lost 300 lbs, and was so thin that you could see it’s ribs and bones.

One of the owners of the recovered horses – DJ Dickenson said, “I was heartbroken when I saw him them. I would rather have had my horse running loose through the woods than tied to a pine tree.”

Though, 4 of the 5 horses had been recovered and the owners were overjoyed to have their horses back.. there was still one missing.

Credit Card’s remains were found November 25th. He had been shot, his throat had been slit, and his body quartered and scattered.  There were no immediate leads in the case, but before long they came pouring in.

On December 5th, 2011 Jaci Rae Jackson of Broken Bow, Oklahoma was arrested for the crimes.  She was a fellow SAU student and reportedly had 2 rodeo students show her around the stables, all the while taking notes in a pink notebook prior to the theft. She was also seen counting the stalls in the area where the horses were housed.

The affidavit shows that Jaci was believed to have had “some form of romantic problems with at least one of the owners of the stolen horses,” and had expressed to a fellow student that “some of the owners of the stolen horses had made her mad.”

A confidential informant spoke with the Sheriff’s Office of McCurtain County, Oklahoma and told them that Jaci had contacted them about assisting her move the horses.  In another conversation, this time while it was recorded, Jaci stated that Credit Card was killed by an accomplice while she watched…. and that she “wanted the horse killed.”

There have since been other arrests made in the case.. two of them being Jaci’s relatives – Mickie Lynn Carter and Charles Tramble. They were charged with knowingly concealing stolen property. They have since been released.

Jaci is also out on bond, and is facing charges in Arkansas as well as in Oklahoma for these crimes. Other arrests will hopefully be made in connection to this crime, and I hope that everyone involved sees justice.

Me… being who I am, my first reaction is hoping they hang for what they’ve done.. treat them like we used to treat horse thieves.  Actually, I have had a lot of things enter my mind as to what would be a ‘fitting’ punishment for these people… most are probably not appropriate to share here.

Again, can’t really explain why this story resonates with me the way it does… but it does.  If anyone wants to follow this story and see how it all plays out, you can follow the story on Facebook through the Banner News Page or their website HERE.

I didn’t know at the time the story broke that Credit Card’s owner, Shaun Smith was participating in the reality show Sweet Home Alabama. He got the news about his horse while filming.

I tried to add the video to this post, but I can’t figure it out how to do it. So.. If you would like to see the interview and news story with Shaun click HERE.

CREDIT CARD by Kristi Skimehorn

They call me “Credit Card” that is my name
I was raised to rodeo that was my fame
Chasing some cows that run all around
  As my owner ropes them and ties them down

I spent days and nights on the rodeo road
With one thing in mind and that was winning mode
My owner in college rodeo such a dream come true
Climbing the academic ladder things to pursue

Then sadly one day all things would change
Someone would steal me and leave my remains
Their heart was so cold with one thing in mind
All because they seemed second in line

They took away a life that was loved so much
Took me from rodeo and family and such
The things that they did I can not explain
The brutal emotions and all of the pain

But to all of my buddies and my master too
I hurt no more and my rodeo days aren’t through
I’m up here in Heaven doing what I do
With another young rider making dreams come true

In honor of 100 years of America’s Favorite Cookie, here are a couple of vintage Oreo commercials… the first is from 1986. I actually remember this one.

And here is another from 1959… I have no recollection of this one… a little before my time.