Bulldog

Here to learn from the people I choose. I’m not here to be followed. So don’t bother following me. I’m also extremely picky about who I follow and learn from.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@galiofgalilee I’ve met people like this. It’s terrible for them. So what are your suggestions to help someone that you care about with this problem?

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@Joseph655288400 @1OgOutlaw Actually, it’s totally obvious why this is happening. Its Porn.
They watch graphic disgusting things on porn, which is violence oriented.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@1OgOutlaw The only justice is $hoot the perps in the h@ad. No bail. Just de@d.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@KingWabi Wow! Did you get sick or something? What caused such a serious surgery? Sorry to hear you’ve been going through so much Wabi.

[Nature Unedited @NatureUnedited]

These adorable great horned owls were recorded in Arizona, nesting in a saguaro cactus. They were moments away from falling asleep, all bundled up together

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@thegabriel72 These company owners are so obnoxious

[positive side of X 🌞 @positivityofx]

Cindy!!!

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@DannyMintys @its_Lexieroy An American would be hugging that kid. But not the sick people that live in those countries.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@DannyMintys @its_Lexieroy Sick effing ba$tards!! Any people or country that beats their children. Stay the hell out of Of America.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@saniyafatma1278 He is so cute

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@fabyollaverass More of this in the world!

[fefe @fefewhitee]

um homem vai trabalhar no mar todos os dias e fez amizade com um leão-marinho a ponto do querido subir no barco e sempre tirar um cochilo ❤️

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@MisterSpread If it is true that you’re doing everything and your spouse doesn’t let you even so much as have feelings, you’re in a terrible marriage. Both men and women need to talk about their stresses, their fears and their dreams with the interest of their spouse. Just my two cents.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@MisterSpread @God_Zalmoxis Icompletely agree with this. But everyone lives in a different culture. And they all live with different women and family systems.
I would say that men in America in general are pampered and absolutely everything is done for them.
And they expressed more feelings than the women.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@MrPitbull07 I love your story! That’s absolutely beautiful.

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

I didn’t want my late son’s dog. That’s the truth. I couldn’t stand the idea of keeping him, and I need to admit that upfront because nothing else in this story makes sense otherwise.

When my son, Ryan, died, people showed up with food trays, sympathy cards, and carefully chosen words that were meant to comfort me but never really did.

And then someone brought me his dog.

His name was Tank.

Ryan had adopted Tank from a shelter three years before the crash. I still remember the phone call. He was 17, but he sounded like a kid who’d just unwrapped the best gift of his life.

“Dad, you have to meet him. He’s amazing. You’re going to love him.”

“I’m not a dog person,” I told him.

“That’s because you haven’t met Tank yet,” he said. “Tank’s different.”

I never agreed. Whenever I met Ryan, Tank would try to climb into my lap like he weighed nothing. I’d shove him off, and Ryan would just laugh.

“He likes you,” he’d say.

“Well, I don’t like him,” I’d answer.

It became a running joke between us. Ryan adored that dog. I tolerated him because I adored my son.

Then Ryan was gone.

He died on a Sunday evening in October. A distracted driver ran a red light while he was heading home from work. He was 20 years old. The hospital called at 7:12 PM. I know because I stared at the microwave clock while trying to understand how the world could end at such an ordinary minute.

My wife, Elaine, had passed years earlier. After that, it had just been the two of us. We argued sometimes. He thought I was set in my ways. I thought he took too many risks. But beneath all that, there was love.

After the funeral, his landlord called. Someone had to clear out the apartment. That included the dog.

“I can’t take him,” I said.

“If no one does, I’ll have to contact animal services.”

Ryan’s friend, Lucas, dropped Tank off at my place the next afternoon. Tank walked in slowly, unsure, and went straight to the spare bedroom where Ryan used to stay when he visited. He jumped onto the bed, circled once, and settled his head on Ryan’s old pillow.

For two weeks, he barely left that spot. I had to bring his food bowl to him. I had to coax him outside. He would stare at the front door for hours.

Every time headlights flashed across the driveway, his ears lifted. His tail gave a hopeful thump.

Then nothing.

He was waiting for Ryan.

I thought I’d feel something watching that shared grief. Some kind of connection. But I felt hollow. Real grief doesn’t always look like crying. Sometimes it’s just numbness. Like someone carved out your insides and left you moving on instinct.

We existed in the same house like strangers bound by loss. Two creatures staring at the same door.

I tried to rehome him. I called Lucas and told him to find someone else. But we couldn't find anyone. I contacted a rescue. They put him on a waitlist.

Then one night, something changed.

I had fallen asleep in my chair and woke up gasping from a nightmare — the accident replaying in my mind. My chest felt tight. My breathing uneven.

Tank was there.

Not in the spare room. Not by the door.

He had pressed himself against my legs, resting his heavy head on my knee, looking up at me with steady, quiet eyes. Not demanding anything. Not asking to go outside. Just there.

For the first time since Ryan died, I reached down and placed my hand on that dog.

He didn’t move.

Neither did I.

The next morning, I called the rescue and asked them to remove his name from the list.

Tank started sleeping outside my bedroom instead of in the spare room. Then, slowly, he stopped waiting at the door. I stopped staring at the wall.

We began walking together in the evenings. Neighbors who once avoided us started saying hello. Tank carried himself proudly, like he had a job to do. Maybe he did.

It’s been a year now.

He still tries to sit on my lap, even though he’s far too big. And I let him.

I didn’t want my son’s dog.

But somehow, that dog saved what was left of me.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@KingWabi Thank you for warning us Wabi. I didn’t even know that this stuff was becoming public. And I didn’t really realize it was going to be that dark. I’m ready for God to wipe out Evil forever.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@merlini92 @HustleBitch_ Honestly, this is so horrible! I’m so tired of human beings treating every animal as if it’s nothing more than a piece of garbage. How would they like it if an alien decided that they were an invasive species and just started killing them? Because, who knows maybe we are.

[Bulldog @Bulldogemma3]

@DivintyMary @grok can you verify whether this article is true?