Kevin

@JimShockey_ Peace be with you.

This will be a long one… Branlin, my son. 🙏🏽 ❤️ “This is me waking up from my colonoscopy last week to hear the surgeon saying he'd found what he estimated was at least stage 3 colorectal cancer. Now, when your doctor says "at least" that's usually not a good sign. Stage 3's survival rate is something like 75%. Stage 4 is not where you want to be. The next day we went to get scanned to see how far the cancer's spread. I was the only patient in the waiting room under 65. I started thinking how unfair it all seemed. I'm active, l'm in shape. I don't party and never did (my sister will claim this is because I was never invited to parties and that's technically true). I eat well, go to bed early and follow all the latest health trends. I'm longevity's freaking poster child. I never considered I'd get cancer young. And then a 5 year old boy entered the same waiting room for HIS scans and suddenly my situation doesn't seem so unfair and I realize there are many types of cancer, none more tragic than the mental kind where we (myself included) start believing the malignant idea that if we make all the right choices today there's a universal rulebook making sure tomorrow pays dividends. All this to say... All we truly have is now. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Everything is relative. When the scans came back showing the cancer as advanced stage 2 (it has not yet spread to other organs) I was thrilled. No sarcasm, I fist pumped for ten seconds straight when they told me and an outside observer would have guessed l'd won the lottery. I'd like to thank my wife Ashley and my incredible circle of family and friends for circling the wagons. You all have some big bad and serious wagons and had this been stage 4 it would have a battle for the ages that would have left every last cancer cell quivering in its nasty little boots. As it is, it will be several months of radiation and chemo and surgery for me but I endeavor to be grateful for every second of it. 🙏❤️”

@sw_usa7476 The dryness…ugh...no wonder her husband is gay.

@Riflemanscreed2 Sleep tight don’t let the bed bugs bite.

I Ben been in bed but going to sleep… Good night 😴

@AObariase12770 @LegionHoops @FirstTake It’s 2026, LeBron will taste defeat.

@LegionHoops @FirstTake 2016 Lebron wilm chew and munch on OKC all day, all week..Matter of fact he will single handedly sweep OKC..

Kendrick Perkins says the Lakers have no shot at beating OKC: “I don't give a damn if LeBron James got in a hyperbaric chamber and added 10 years to his damn life. They ain't beating Oklahoma City! It's a wrap!” (via @FirstTake)

@LegionHoops @FirstTake Truth

@SPA001 RIP Hero

SEAL Team 5 and DEVGRU Andrew Craig Honeyman (R.I.P) 🔱 12/13/1986 - 04/12/2026

@BikiniBeast Safe travels.

@omfg_slots Excellent win.

$500 Bonus Buy 👀

@buitengebieden Yup

If I win the lottery, I won’t tell anyone, but there will be signs.. 😉

@_XDogs 🙏

My dog is sick please don't swipe past without sending him a Healing prayer❤️

@Damfool65 RIP Hero

Thanks for your service sir 🤠💯💪

@Riflemanscreed2 A veterinarian until I took my first animal science class in college.

👇

@Damfool65 RIP Hero

Thanks for your service sir 🤠💯💪

@SoldiersWhisper RIP Hero

🇺🇸 Master Sergeant Robert M. “Bob” Horrigan was a battle-hardened warrior whose quiet humility masked one of the most elite combat resumes in US Special Operations. Born January 13, 1965, in Limestone, Maine, he enlisted in the Army straight out of high school and quickly earned his place in the 75th Ranger Regiment. He later volunteered for Special Forces, and served with the 7th Special Forces Group (Airborne). Selected for the Army’s elite Counter-Terrorist Unit (1st SFOD-D / Delta Force), he served nearly a decade in the nation’s most demanding direct-action force. Known affectionately as “The Pack Mule” for shouldering extra gear so his teammates could keep fighting, Horrigan completed three combat tours in Afghanistan and four previous rotations in Iraq, earning multiple Bronze Stars with Valor and a reputation as the first man through the door when it mattered most. On what was supposed to be the final mission of a legendary 20-year career, Master Sergeant Horrigan volunteered to lead the stack once more. On June 17, 2005, in the unforgiving terrain near Al Qaim, western Iraq, he was mortally wounded 🕊️ during intense close-quarters combat operations against enemy forces while serving with US Army Special Operations Command. At age 40, this devoted husband and father from Austin, Texas, gave his life in the service of his country—just days before he was scheduled to return home and retire. God bless our Vets! #TheAfghanistanWar #Iraqwarvet #RIP #Rangersleadtheway #USmilitary #combat

@saniyafatma1278 So sorry for your loss.

I lost my beautiful, wonderful dog today. Harper did not feel well yesterday, but today, she crashed. A tumor ruptured and she bled internally. I'm not ok. She was my love, my soul, my best walking and frisbee partner, and the reason I'm here. I don't know how to go on.

@cutiieepie6 RIP Tommy

End of watch… but never the end of his legacy. 🐾💔 K9 Tommy served with courage, loyalty, and a heart full of bravery. Today we say goodbye… but heroes like him live forever. 🇺🇸 No one said rip 😭

@GretchenPSmith RIP Hero.

I miss my dad every damn day.

@JRM58506966 RIP Hero

When ungrateful selfless citizen that have no clue as that while the radical left protest has no human compassion & have no idea why they have freedoms they have. This is what they all need to see. SFC Mark Allen was shot in the head by a sniper in Afghanistan on July 8, 2009, while serving as part of a unit searching for a disgraceful soldier. He suffered a severe, life-altering head injury that left him unable to walk or speak and required constant care. After more than a decade of health issues, Allen died from his injuries on October 12, 2019, at the age of 46.

@Lillybelli Thank you !!!

I went to the shelter that Saturday with a clear plan already in place. I had picked out my dog online — a strong, handsome Pitbull mix with gentle, expressive eyes. I’d even started calling him Bruno before meeting him. In my mind, it all seemed simple. The kennel door would open, he’d come straight to me with his tail wagging, and we’d head home together. I was already picturing hikes and having a loyal companion by my side. But when the volunteer opened the gate, nothing went the way I imagined. Bruno didn’t move. No wagging tail, no excitement. He just stood there on the concrete, let out a quiet, uncertain sound, and lowered his head. Confused, I stepped closer. “Come on, buddy,” I said softly, holding out the leash. He glanced at me for a moment, then looked past me. When I followed his gaze, I saw a tiny mixed-breed puppy tucked into the corner, trying to make himself invisible. The little pup, maybe eight weeks old, was shaking. His eyes were locked on Bruno — and Bruno was watching him just as intently. That’s when it clicked. They weren’t just sharing a space. They were each other’s comfort. In a loud, overwhelming shelter full of barking dogs, they had found a sense of peace in one another. Bruno wasn’t being stubborn. He just didn’t want to leave his friend behind. Without a single sound, he made it clear — he wasn’t going anywhere alone. At that point, it didn’t feel like a choice anymore. It felt like the only thing to do. I turned to the staff, took a breath, and asked, “Is it possible to adopt both of them?” The volunteer smiled and said they had been hoping someone would. The two of them slept curled up together every night. After the paperwork was done and everything was finalized, they walked out of the shelter side by side, staying close, just like they were always meant to.