My Grandad was telling me about a stray dog his battalion adopted during WW2.
"He was a lovely fella. Brought smiles to our faces even on the darkest days," he remembered fondly. "Taught him all sorts of tricks we did. He'd give you his paw, beg on his hind legs and he loved a game a fetch."
"What happened to him, Grandad?"
A tear welled up in his eye, "We had to shoot him, son."
"Why?"
"Our own fault really...