Ever since I was a little boy, I dreamed of having a dog of my own. I loved dogs of all shapes and sizes, but I had a soft spot for chocolate labs. They were so adorable, with their brown fur, floppy ears, and sweet eyes. I imagined playing fetch with them, cuddling with them, and taking them for walks.
But my parents never let me have a dog. They said they were too much work, too expensive, and too messy. They said I had to wait until I was older and had my own place. So I waited, and waited, and waited.
Finally, when I was 25, I moved out of my parents’ house and bought a small house. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. And I could have all the pets I ever wanted. I was so excited. I started looking for chocolate lab puppies online, hoping to find one that needed a home.
I was lucky. I found an ad for a litter of chocolate lab puppies that were born on a farm nearby. The owner said they were healthy, vaccinated, and ready to go. He said he had one male left, and he was the cutest of the bunch. He sent me a picture, and I fell in love.
I drove to the farm the next day, eager to meet my new best friend. The owner greeted me and led me to a barn, where the puppies were playing. They were all adorable, but one stood out. He was the smallest but the most energetic. He ran up to me, licked my face, and wagged his tail. He looked at me with his big brown eyes, and I knew he was the one.
I picked him up and hugged him. He snuggled into my arms and made a happy sound. The owner smiled and said his name was Hershey because he looked like a candy bar. I thought it was a perfect name. I paid the owner, thanked him, and took Hershey to my car. He sat on my lap and looked out the window, curious about the world.
Hershey was a great dog. He was smart, loyal, and friendly. He learned how to sit, stay, fetch, and roll over in no time. He never barked at strangers, chewed on furniture, or ran away. He was always happy to see me, and he wagged his tail like crazy. He was my best friend, and I loved him more than anything.
There was only one problem. Hershey hated the hardware store.
I don’t know why, but every time I took him there, he would poop on the floor. And not just anywhere, but right in the middle of the main aisle. It was embarrassing, disgusting, and annoying. I had to apologize to the staff and clean up the mess, and I always walked out of there with my tail between my legs. Every single time.
I tried everything to stop him. I scolded him, praised him, bribed him, and ignored him. Nothing worked. He would poop on the floor as soon as we entered the store. He didn’t care about the other customers, the loud noises, or the weird smells. He just had to do his business.
It was a mystery to me. Hershey was fine everywhere else. He never pooped in the car, the park, the vet, or the pet store. He only did it at the hardware store. And always in the same spot.
One day, I decided to find out why. I took Hershey to the hardware store and waited for him to poop. As usual, he did it right away. As he was pooping, I looked around and noticed a plaque on the wall. It said:
“In memory of Bob Smith, who worked here for 25 years and hated every minute of it. Rest in peace, Bob.”
I was stunned. Could it be that Hershey was Bob’s reincarnation? Did he poop on the floor to express his resentment for his former job? Did he hate the hardware store as much as Bob did?
I decided to test my theory. I asked one of the staff members about Bob. He told me that Bob was an old man who worked as a cashier. He said Bob was always grumpy, rude, and lazy. He said Bob hated his job, his boss, his coworkers, and his customers. He said Bob died of a heart attack about a year ago, right in the middle of the main aisle.
I felt a chill. That was the exact spot where Hershey pooped. It was too much of a coincidence. Hershey had to be Bob’s reincarnation. He pooped on the floor to get back at his old boss, his old coworkers, and his old life. He was a rebel, a prankster, and a genius.
I decided to respect his wishes. I never took him to the hardware store again. I let him poop wherever he wanted, as long as it wasn’t in my house. I loved him for who he was, not who he used to be.
Hershey was a great dog. He was smart, loyal, and friendly. And he had a tremendous sense of humor.
