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I want to tell you a story about Hank, and I want you to know that it has a happy ending. This is Hank 6 years ago. 
My wife got a reminder yesterday that 6 years ago Hank ate her brand new slip on Vans. Look at that guilty pup. Come on, Hank.
Within a few hours of that reminder, at midnight last night, Hank started barking from the living room. My wife and kids were asleep, I was finishing up a movie in another room. Hank would not shut up.
So I dragged myself off the couch and went out to the living room to make him stop. As soon as I came around the corner, I saw that the entire yard was glowing orange.
The very large wooden work shed full of gasoline, paint and God knows what else was blazing. The oaks were on fire. Flaming leaves and embers were blowing everywhere.
We got everyone up, 911 on the line, the whole family and both dogs out front in what felt like a few seconds. The fence and the neighbor's shed went up like a torch. We were able to wake her up and get her kids and dog outside just as the fire crew got there.
The fire spread to the back of our house the same minute the firefighters got the hoses to it. A minute or two more, and it was gone. Instead, everyone is safe, and we still have a house. It's black and crispy on one side, but it's totally intact.
The firefighters were absolutely amazing. It was windy, so they had to contain and deal with this for two adjacent blocks. Just totally, unbelievably skilled and coordinated.
So Hank. That dog.
This is him today, 6 years after eating some shoes, 15 hours after saving our house and family. He can have all the shoes and steak he wants, and I will never get mad at him for barking, ever again. 15/10, the very best boy.
While you’re here, go check your smoke detectors right now, because we don’t all have a Hank. And do something nice for a neighbor. And pet your doggos. Ok, thanks.
Y’all are the best, and so are your dogs. Thanks. These replies are like an incredible Voltron of Hanks, and I’m in awe of it.
