Our Little Buddy,
When you walked up I thought you were the most pitiful little dog I had ever seen. You were skinny as a rail, your coat was brittle to the touch and one eye was glued shut. But you hung around, never bothering us, head down, just asking for some kindness. We couldn’t leave without you so we loaded you in the car and you rode,
facing backwards, all the way to Dallas.
Glenn took you to see Dr. Perkins who gave us the good news that you had heartworms, hookworms, and were missing an eye. So we fixed you up and brought you home again. You were one sick little dog and we almost lost you one night when an embolism broke loose as a result of your heartworm treatment. But you were a tough little guy and you pulled through. Lying on the floor with you, watching you struggle, I learned how special a dog you were.
You loved to go anywhere and everywhere as long as you could stay with your people. Ursa accepted you immediately and modeled behavior that put you at ease. She taught you that when we left, we would return. That when people walk on our sidewalk you must bark at the window. That when it is time for us to come home, you wait on Mother’s bed and watch out the window. That when you need to go to the bathroom you go out the dog door. And you learned all this immediately. Sometimes I could see your uncertainty about something new and turn to her as if to ask: “Should I be concerned about this?”
And you thrived. You gained weight (and gained weight). Throughout your little life you worried the food might not always be there. You took your place in our household and in our hearts. Sleeping next to you will remain one of our fondest memories; you were a first-class cuddler. Your little body was so sturdy and we loved to hug you and make over you. You would sit so straight so I could tell you what a handsome and strong boy you were. And you were handsome. You had everything: black brown, white, grey, big spots, little spots. And your new healthy coat was as soft as velvet. We gave you many names in addition to Buddy: the Budmeister, the Budster, Budinsky , Buddy McFuddy, Budderhead, Little, Big ‘Un, our best boyfriend, bestest friendest, our little buddy boy.
Ursa taught you all about the cookie jar and you sat quietly to the side until it was your turn to have a cookie, letting her go first. You learned about morsels in the kitchen and tried your best to like everything Ursa liked. You would get excited about lettuce, but take it in the living room to eat. Watching you I could almost hear you: “This stuff is terrible, but looks like I’m supposed to eat it.”
You never quite learned to take a walk on a leash, but you improved. You would pull like a freight train, walking sideways to get the best leverage, nearly choking yourself in the process. At the lake, on the long leash, you made sure we were all bound tightly together. But your favorite walk at the lake was off the leash, when you could run ahead, then hurry back to round up your herd.
You loved to play with other dogs, but they were not allowed to come to your house. We always felt you were concerned we might adopt them and you would be left
to fend for yourself again.
You had many little quirks – sudden noises, big rigs on the highway, flying insects, snakes, but especially storms. Even a little rain cloud would have you quaking in your boots. In bad storms you liked to be under the covers with one of our hands over your head.
When we first found you, you could run like the wind and whizzed through the woods at the lake like a bullet. You quickly adapted to a more domestic life, gained weight, and could still run, but not quite as fast. As you adapted to your new life we got such a kick out of your new attitude. We bought you your own life jacket and you would ride on the back of the boat with an air about you that seemed to say: “Hey guys look at this, boat, people, collar, life vest…just look at me now!” We got you a sheriff’s collar because you strutted around like the sheriff of Franklin County; not afraid of ‘nuthin….except those flying insects, noises and, oh yes, cats. Well, anyway you were sorta tough.
One of your favorite activities became napping and loved it if we would lie on the bed with you. I have so many pictures in my mind of lying with you on the bed at the lake with your little body pressed up to mine. As soon as you felt our “bedtime” was drawing near, you would get nervous and tell us in every way but words: “Hey, let’s go to bed.” And sometimes in the morning I would wake up and you would already be awake, just sitting quietly and watching, waiting for us to wake up.
Every day you thanked us for taking you in and every day we were thankful you found us. You needed so much love and assurance and you made us feel special because we could give it to you. We love you Buddy. And we will miss you forever. Please stay with us, if only in our hearts.
Love,
| Buddy |
| 5, July 2005 |
| Karen & Glenn |