Barbie Perkins-Cooper, Author

Tag: Mr. Hanks the Tank

  • Missing Mr. Hanks, the Tank


    Dearest Readers:

    Today is a day of remembrance and heartache for me. On Wednesday, November 21, 2018, we had to say goodbye to our precious little mini-schnauzer, Mr. Hanks.

    Prior to us rescuing him and welcoming him into our family, he was an angry little boy who loved to bite — MEN! When we fostered him, I was told his story which I shall share below:

    “Hank” as he was called by everyone who cared for him was basically abandoned after his master passed away. No one in the family wanted him so they took him to a kill shelter. Fortunately, the kill shelter contacted Schnauzer Rescue of the Carolinas. He was fostered by a woman in Myrtle Beach but she couldn’t devote the time needed since her pup was in hospice. Anita of Schnauzer Rescue of the Carolinas asked me if I would consider fostering him. Of course, I said yes, drove to Myrtle Beach to get him, and Hank and I bonded immediately.

    That evening Hank bit my husband for the first time. While he lived in our home, he would nip at my husband’s feet, legs and hands, sometimes managing to leave marks and blood. A few weeks later Hank was adopted.

    After his adoption, I had dreams about him. In one dream, he ran away and came to our front door. Quite a journey for him, but it was only a dream. I awoke to imagining Hank was at the front door barking.

    In another dream, Hank ran away again, managing to end up on I-26. In this dream I realized Hank was doing his amazing animal communication skills to share something with me. A few weeks later, I heard from his adoptive family. “Hank wasn’t working out.”

    I contacted Anita and that weekend I rescued him again, this time we adopted him. Over the years, Hank’s anger seemed to ease. When he wanted attention, he groaned. When at my desk writing, Hank joined me, curling his small body around my feet. When I walked on the treadmill, he joined me again, barking at me, letting me know he wanted to walk on the treadmill. Never have I had a dog who loved the treadmill like Hank did. When I get on my treadmill now, I miss him. Many times I’ve actually cried. Because of his athletic ability I started calling him Mr. Hanks, the Tank! He loved that name!

    Last year, just before Thanksgiving, Mr. Hanks became sick. He would not eat or drink water. He refused to move around and he would not go outside.

    Arriving at the vet’s office, he was examined. My vet said he was shutting down. After talking with Mr. Hanks, the Tank, I hugged and kissed him. He understood what I was saying and he kissed me on the nose. Hank wasn’t a kisser! No doubt this was his way of saying goodbye.

    Today, I’d like to honor and remember my little Hanks the Tank. He found love and acceptance with us. As the tears fall down my face, I still remember him. Miss him, and love him.

    Mr. Hanks the Tank, one day we will see one another again. I know you rode the treadmill to Heaven and I will remember you and love you, ALWAYS.

    Mr. Hanks, the Tank

  • Thanksgiving, 2018


    Dearest Readers:

    I realize this is Thanksgiving week; however, I wanted to share a bit of a touching, sad story. This morning, Wednesday, November 21, 2018, we had to let our precious little 14-year-old+ mini schnauzer go to doggie heaven. Since Monday evening, he deteriorated rather quickly. He ate his dinner. Drank water, and on Tuesday morning, he could hardly walk. I lifted him gently, carried him outside and watched him struggling to stand  just to potty. His legs were like spaghetti. Although he wobbled to stand, he couldn’t.

    I watched him all day, noticing he would not move. He lay in his urine, I cleaned him and did all I could. At dinner time, he turned his face away. Refusing to eat, even when I tried to hand feed him. He rested on his side. His breathing was labored and he was lethargic. This was not Mr. Hanks.  

    All night long, I watched him. He hadn’t moved at all. I had his favorite pillow next to him. A blanket and a beach towel. No movement. Hank loved pillows and blankets! Early this morning, with no response and no movement, I made a phone call I prayed I would not have to make. I asked the receptionist if the vet would check him over. He would.

    Arriving at the veterinary hospital, Hank was examined. His breathing was labored and short, like he had raced, or been on the treadmill with me. Yes, Mr. Hanks the Tank loved the treadmill. He would always jump on it before I could! Hanks truly had a delightful personality when he was happy, which was all of the time with us.

    Prior to us adopting him, or maybe it was him adopting us, he lived a life of cruelty when his family member passed away, and the relatives did not want Hank, so they took him to a shelter to euthanize him. Fortunately, he was saved when Schnauzer Rescue of the Carolinas intercepted, saving his life. 

    Hanks, the Tank…At Last, he has a happy home!

    After we adopted Mr. Hanks, he was a bit reluctant to accept my husband. When I reviewed his papers, I realized his former owner and my husband had the same first name. That’s when I realized in Hank’s eyes, he was fearful of someone named “Phil.” It took us many months to get Hank to stop nipping and biting at Phil. I don’t recall him biting him in over two years. Sometimes, he would rush at him, I suppose to protect me, which he didn’t need to do, and he would place his mouth over Phil’s toe, or foot, growl and walk away. Obviously, he grew up in an abusive family; nevertheless, when I touched him, or moved away, he would grumble and follow me around the house. 

    Mr. Hanks the Tank was a special needs schnauzer. All he really needed was for someone to reach him gently, touch and rub him and speak softly to him. In our home, he did not see abuse, only kindness, love, respect and acceptance.

    Tomorrow at Thanksgiving, I will give thanks for God providing Mr. Hanks to come into our lives. While I write this, I am crying my heart out over losing him. It was one of the toughest and most heart breaking decisions I’ve made. My animals are my family!

    Happy Thanksgiving in Heaven, Mr. Hanks, the Tank. I pray you are with Sir Shakespeare Hemingway, and Prince Marmaduke Shamus. Mommy loves all of you. I give thanks for God sharing our lives for only a while. I love and miss all of you.