I shared 13 years with my best friend Beauregard T Dawg a Basset Hound that I had from a pup. He shared my last few years in the Army till I retired as the Company Mascot, and physical training assistant, (kept the troops running). He was a real active Basset, a runner, loved to play with the troops, and had 135 troops watching out for him daily. He was the assistant 1SGT. After I retired, I became an owner operator truck driver and we shared 7 wonderfull years on the road. Beau was 13 years old in 1998, and it was getting harder and harder for him to live in the truck, but when I left him home he would bay all night missing me, keeping the wife awake till all hours. I actually spent more time with Beau than home with the wife. We again went out on the road and shared the last few weeks. His last day, Nov 3rd 1998 was a normal one, we got up, did our daily walk, he ate, and we traveled on that day doing our thing. We stopped for the night in a rest area along west bound I-70 in Kansas, we had our dinner and we sat out at a picnic table having our nightly conversation, with my coffee in hand we just sat and pondered the universe, as I scratched his head, and he would move my hand back to scratch position with his snout if I stopped. He and I did our nightly walk and talk, and we went to bed for the night. I awoke in the AM, and Beau passed quietly in his sleep that night. I was heartbroken. I sat for awhile, called the wife, and just could not move. I finally took my small e-tool and went to the back of the rest area, I dug, tears flowing. I do not know to this day if it was legal to bury Beau there but he would of wanted to be there out on the road. I placed his favorite blanket lining the hole, placed his bed, and a full food and water dish down, layed Beau down as he would sleep, covered him with my poncho liner, and there he rests, I took his “dogtag”
Dawg,
Beauregard T
and nailed it to a stake and placed it over him. Sat there for the rest of the day unable to drive, the load was going to be late, but I had a differant priority.
I still stop every chance I get, change the dogtag when needed, and just have a cup of coffee and sit there talkin to the Beau, and the tears still come. The saving grace is his grandson again named Beauregard T Dawg JR now shares my adventures on the road. My daughter gave me one of the pups from the liter of Beau’s daughter, and he will as his grandpa did move my hand to scratch position as we drive along the nations highways, bringing a small tear to the corner of my eye. I am in the truck now in Ohio, Beau JR laying at my feet. Wish I had a photo of Beau I could post, but all I have is the one on the dash. I am planning on stopping to get your book asap, and listen to your show daily. I totally understand why you wrote the book, I may sit and write a few memories myself of Beau, I think it would help me also.

John from Nebraska