A letter from Frank Caldwell · Updated July 21, 2026
Please read this. It is about my dog, Rex.

This is me and Rex. He has been my best friend for a long time now.
Hello. My name is Frank. I am 72 years old and I will be honest with you. I do not know how to build one of these internet pages. My neighbor's boy helped me put this online. So please forgive me if it is not fancy. I just did not know where else to turn.
I am writing to you because of my dog, Rex. He is a German Shepherd. Before he came to live with me, Rex was a working police dog, a K9. For years he went into the dangerous places first, so that people he never met could go home to their families. He did this hundreds of times and never once asked for a thing.
When his working days were over, and after my wife passed, the two of us found each other. I opened my door to an old retired hero, and he ended up saving me right back. Every morning we walk to the same bench. Every night he sleeps by the kitchen door. I do not have much family left, and honestly, Rex is about all I have.

Rex back in his working days. I keep this picture on my wall.
A while ago Rex got hurt. The veterinarian was kind, but the news was hard, and the cost of helping him is far more than an old man on a fixed pension can pay on his own. I have been up many nights trying to figure out what to do.
A note from the vet's office: Rex needs care that comes to about $7,000. The sooner we can cover it, the sooner they can help him. That is a frightening number for someone like me, but I am not giving up on him.
Where things stand right now
As of July 21, 2026
Raised so far: $2,680 · Goal: $7,000
38% of the way there. $4,320 still needed to help Rex. Every book helps.
I was not raised to ask people for money. It does not sit right with me. So I sat down at my kitchen table and did the only thing I could think of. I wrote down Rex's whole story in a little book. Every mission. Every quiet morning. All of it. It took me a long while, my hands are not what they used to be.
If you would like to read Rex's story, you can help with whatever you want. The help is free. Any amount you decide to give for the book is welcome, big or small, and every dollar goes straight to helping Rex. That is the honest truth.
One thing I should tell you. After you help, I send the book to you myself, by email. Because I do it by hand, one person at a time, it can take up to 24 hours to reach you. Please be patient with an old man. It will come, I promise.

Here is the little book I made. This is me holding it.
Get Rex's book »Safe and secure. Give any amount you feel is right. I send the book within 24 hours.

Writing it all down. This is the book that came out of it.
I know there are a lot of things asking for your attention out there, and I am just one old man with one old dog. But Rex spent his whole life showing up for strangers. I am just trying to show up for him now, the only way I know how.
A few things people have asked me
Where does the money go?
Straight to Rex. His vet care and the costs of getting him better. Nothing fancy, I promise you.
How much should I give?
Whatever you want. The help is free, so any amount you decide is welcome, big or small. It all helps Rex.
How do I get the book after I help?
I send it to you myself, by email. Because I do it by hand for each person, please allow up to 24 hours for it to arrive. It comes as a PDF you can read on your phone, tablet, or computer.
Is this a real story?
Yes. Rex is a real retired K9, and I am a real old man who loves him. Every word in the book is true.
What if I cannot buy it right now?
That is alright. If you could share this with someone who loves dogs, that helps Rex too. Thank you.
Thank you for reading all the way to the end. It means more to me than you could know. Whether you get the book or not, God bless you for caring.
Yours truly,
Frank
(and Rex, who is asleep at my feet as I write this)
Safe and secure. Give any amount you feel is right. I send the book within 24 hours.
This is a true story, written by Frank Caldwell. Thank you for reading.