My Friend of Yesterday

It seemed like just the other day that he was a pup, young, eager, full of life and love and needing someone to call his own. The first year was more nightmarish than enjoyable; crazy puppy antics and destructive teeth were sources of much frustration and discouragement. Then came adulthood, maturity and growing up. Once he settled down and focused we became inseparable. We did everything together from daily walks, fetch, and training sessions to agility, obedience and eventually winning ribbons at the fair. What I would always cherish most about him, however, would be his endless love and companionship. To him alone I could whisper my deepest thoughts and secrets and he would never tell a soul. His devotion proved unwavering and his love unquestionable. He offered no criticism and presented no problems. He was my friend and my companion; he was my Buddy.

His cold, wet nose on my hand jolted me back to the present and I looked at the dog that my Buddy had become. I gently patted his bony head with the sunken, pitiful
eyes, then looked at his emaciated frame, hips jutting out and ribs clearly visible, merely a shadow of the lively dog he had once been.

“Dear GOD, why did You let this happen?” I demanded as I struggled to hold back tears. “You KNOW how much I love Buddy, yet You are taking him away from me so soon.” He was only two and a half years old.

My family and I had done everything in our power, everything that our hearts—and pocketbooks—would allow, to try to save this creature who had started in our home and ended up in our hearts. The multiple vet visits and blood tests, all came back normal. And none of the the pills and prescriptions, medications and diet changes, cured or improved our beloved pet. Countless phone calls, internet researches and prayers only left us with broken hearts and many unanswered questions.

Many times I relied on faith in God to help me through but just as many other times I had questioned and blamed God for what had occurred over the past three months. While deep in my heart I knew that was wrong, I could find no other way to justify the tragedy which was taking place and the unavoidable decision which I had to make.

The gusty autumn wind ripped its chilly fingers through my hair and sent shivers up my spine as I slowly walked into the house. I knew what I had to do.
It was Friday so we decided to spend one last weekend with him. His last few days we made as comfortable and memorable as possible with extra treats, last pictures and one final walk together, all the while trying to forget the unavoidable.

Buddy was tired and weak and I talked to him as we strolled to keep my spirits alive.

“Remember how you used to love the water and we had to walk to the creek every day so you, silly dog, could splash and chase rocks.”

I stopped to let him rest a minute.

“Remember how you used to love to fetch dad’s golf balls for him? He was never a big animal person but you were always, ‘his dog,’ Buddy,” I reminded him.

“Remember when…” but my voice choked up and I couldn’t go on.

The walk ended all too soon and so did the weekend. Monday arrived, cold and raining and nature itself seemed to feel our sorrow. There were many tearful goodbyes and last minute hugs as Mom and I loaded Buddy into the van for one last trip.

Halfway to the vets, with Buddy on my lap, I begged Mom to turn around.

Once at the vet clinic we were hurried back to an examining room where the vet put Buddy on a table.

“This first pill only puts him into a deep sleep,” the vet explained.

I moved Buddy to my lap as he drifted into a sleep from which he would never awake. Through my tears I reminded him how much I loved him and of the good times we had shared.

“He was such a good dog,” mom whispered.

Soon the vet came back with a needle in his hand.

“This will only take a minute,” he said sympathetically, “It will stop his heart but he won’t feel a thing.”

My heart was pounding and every part of my body screamed NO as the needle was injected. At that moment I called upon God for help and strength like I never had before.

It was all over in seconds and the life and breath of the dog who had been my best friend and companion for two short years was gone.

The ride back was silent and cold; I felt numb and couldn’t have cried even if I wanted to.

When we arrived home everyone was waiting in the front yard by a newly dug grave and the grey clouds and dripping sky reflected our grief. Buddy was to be interred into the ground he had loved the most.

Everyone was crying as Buddy was lowered into his final resting place and the first shovel of dirt fell on him. I had to look away. Poor little Kathleen wanted to know why Buddy wouldn’t wake up.

As I struggled to accept what was happening Mom nudged me.”Regina, look,” she said. I looked up at dad and as he shoveled dirt into the grave, tears rolled down his face. I was shocked and touched. It was the first time that anyone in our family, including mom, had EVER seen him cry. Later he said it was just because all of the kids were so upset but deep down I think that he missed his “golf ball fetching Buddy”.

I will never be able to fully put into words how I felt the days following Buddy’s death. But I do know that I was very sad, angry and confused. Angry at God. He KNEW how much I loved Buddy and He understood how special he was to me. And yet He still took my best friend away.

“Why, Why, WHY?!” I asked Him over and over again as I gradually started to accept the cross that God had given me.

I may never know fully why God took Buddy away from me when He did, the way He did, but I think that I understand now at least a few of the lessons He wanted me to learn.

The experience I had with Buddy strengthened my faith in God like you wouldn’t believe. It was faith that would live forever in the name and memory of my next dog. I learned to place everything I had in God’s hands because He truly knows what is best.

I also think that God wanted me to have Buddy. He knew all of the love that Buddy had and He knew that Buddy’s time on earth was limited. He realized that Buddy needed someone to give his unconditional love to before his time was up. And He knew that I needed Buddy just as much as he needed me, if not more. God also understood that there were life lessons that perhaps only Buddy could teach me. And of course in His almighty knowledge and power He was right. Buddy taught me what true friendship is and the meaning of responsibility and I was able to give him the best days of his life.

Through Buddy, God made me see the light; He made me see love where I thought there was none. He helped me to love the world for what it has to GIVE, not what we can get. He made me appreciate all of the little, simple joys of life that so many, many people take for granted.

The Buddy who left me was gaunt, and thin and lifeless—but that is not the Buddy I will remember. The Buddy I will always remember was full of life, bouncy and happy, always ready to please and a reflection of God’s gift of love and friendship. And on certain breezy, autumn days each year I will walk down Memory Lane with my Buddy, where good times are remembered, faith in God is renewed and dreams really do come true.

1 yr. Anniversary

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of Buddy's death. I can't believe it's already been a year since he left us. I still miss him terrible and think of him every day but the pain and loss is gone and I remember mostly the good times we had together and the wonderful memories we shared. You are forever in my heart Buddy.

Black fur stretched over a bony skeleton. Every rib visible and hips jutting out. Sunken eyes in an enunciated head. Slow, painful and lifeless. That was my Buddy a few weeks before he died. But that’s not the Buddy I remember.
The Buddy I remember was full of life. Eager and bouncy. Always ready for life’s next adventure. He was fun and attentive and obedient to a fault. His outlook was always bright and his love boundless. And that is how he is in my memory and will always remain.

Story ideas???

Hello all! Very sorry I haven’t written here in a while! I am HOPING to start up again with at LEAST one entry per week—hopefully more. I’m not going to make any promises yet.

Anyway, right now I just need your opinion. I am thinking about MAYBE eventually writing a book or story about my dogs and I was wondering if any of you had any ideas for a title? ANY IDEAS AT ALL!

The Love That I Found

I will never be able to fully put into words how I felt after Daisy disappeared. But I do know that I was very angry and confused. Angry at God. He KNEW how much I loved Daisy and He understood how special she was to me. And yet He still took her away.

“Why did You take her instead of Buddy?!?!” I asked Him over and over again.

And I was angry at Buddy. He KNEW where Daisy was and he knew why she was gone. He was with her when fate took its awful toll and she disappeared from our lives forever.

“If ONLY you could talk!!!” was what Buddy heard the most. We spent HOURS together looking for Daisy. I felt that he was responsible for her absence. He knew and wouldn’t (or rather-COULDN’T) tell us.

I knew that Buddy missed her though. For the first few days after she was gone he didn’t eat much whenever he heard her name his ears would perk up and he would look around eagerly. After a few minutes though his eyes would lose their eagerness and his head would droop.

I’ll never know fully why God took Daisy away from me when He did but I think that I understand now at least a few of the lessons He wanted me to get from it.

One, it strengthened my faith in Him like you wouldn’t believe. I learned to place everything I had in His hands because He truly knows what is best.

And I think that God wanted me to have Buddy. He knew all of the love that Buddy had and He knew that Buddy’s time on earth was limited. He knew that Buddy needed someone to give his unconditional love to before his time was up. And He knew that I needed Buddy just as much as he needed me, if not more.

The following Winter and Spring were my best days with him. We did everything together. I trained and played with him in return for his unbounded love and companionship. We went to two shows and won 1st and 3rd place! I was so proud of him!

Buddy made me see the light; he made me see love where I thought there was none. He helped me to love the world for what it has to GIVE not what we can get. He made me appreciate all of the little, simple joys of life that so many, many people take for granted. I think that he enjoyed them so much because he knew their importance. It’s amazing what peace and joy we can get from a simple walk down the road with a treasured friend.

And that is where I will always walk—down Memory Lane with my Buddy, where good times are remembered and dreams really do come true.

(Stay posted for more of BUDDY’S STORY)

After we got Buddy, the novelty of a new dog quickly wore off. He became much more of a burden and a nuisance than the cherished pet he should have been.

I didn’t see the wonderful dog that he was or the treasured friend he would become. I only saw a silly, disobedient puppy whose goal in life seemed to be destroying mine

But then something changed…

(To Be Continued…watch for Buddy’s next diary entry to see how he won a treasured place in my heart.)

How We Got Buddy

This is how Buddy came to his FOREVER home…

In early spring 2008 Buddy’s owners decided that Buddy just was not happy with them and that he would be much better off in a home where someone could train him properly and give him all of the attention that he needed. So they told us that they were trying to find a new home for him.

Naturally when I heard that I begged my dad as hard as I could to let us take him but my dad is not one to make a quick decision so the weeks passed and still no definite answer. Finally they told us that if they could not find a home for him in a week that they were going to put him in the pound.

There was absolutely no way that I was going to let that happen. I begged and pleaded and wheedled some more and FINALLY my dad said yes! We picked him up and brought him to his forever home on March 25, two days after Easter.

Time Can Never Be Rewound

Buddy did not belong to us for the first 10 months of his life and his name was not Buddy. He belonged to our neighbors and his name was Rafe. They were a kind, quiet, family who had 5 very shy, gentle children. Definitely NOT the sort of family to own an active, working breed of dog. I had tried to train him for them and although he listened to me THEIR efforts with them were quite futile. After breaking out of their fenced yard multiple times, chewing up their furniture, and getting hit by a car, they, not knowing what else to do, resorted to tying him to a fence at the back of their yard. It was so sad to see him constantly tethered there by himself. My friend and I used to take him out for walks with Daisy as often as we could but having to tie him back up broke my heart all over again.

We moved a few months later. I was sad to leave him but glad that I didn’t have to see him staked out day after day. (Selfish on my part I know, but I hate to see anyone suffer.)

We kept in close touch with them after we moved and visited them often. I always asked about Buddy and saw him a few times. It was always the same.

“SO MUCH LOVE TO GIVE AND NO ONE TO GIVE IT TOO.”

Don’t let it happen to you. Cherish every single moment with your dog and never take his love and devotion for granted. Time can never be rewound.

The Hot Air Balloon Episode

It was last May (2008) that the Hot Air Balloon landed in our yard.

Since our house is right in between 3 small airports that skydive, give short airplane rides and hot air balloon rides our house is right in the path of the balloons. In the past we had always yelled and shouted at the balloons, telling them to land in our yard but always to no avail. This particular day balloons had been sailing past and over our house constantly. We were watching a large, colorful balloon glide towards our house getting closer and lower every minute. Is it trying to land? we asked each other. Soon it was apparent that it was. My brothers started running around and yelling at the balloon to land in our 5 acre field.

It was then that I noticed the dogs. Daisy and Buddy were running around excitedly, barking like crazy. As the balloon got lower and closer they started running around the yard in HUGE circles, never stopping their constant stream of barking.

“What the HECK is this monster doing in our yard?”, they seemed to be asking.

When the balloon finally landed the dogs were still racing around like they were on fire but the barking had slowed down a bit. When the people got out Daisy immediately went up to them and, tail wagging, begged to be petted.

Buddy, however, was still a little nervous. When someone approached him he backed up and started barking again, his hackles raised. He wasn’t sure yet. Finally after the balloon was packed up he quieted down and allowed people to pet him. They all commented on how sweet and well-behaved the dogs were but I could tell that they weren’t really including Buddy when they said “dogs”. I didn’t mind though. I loved him just the way he was.

I walked down the driveway today to get the mail. It was a beautiful fall day, comfortably warm and sunny with a quiet, gentle breeze. The leaves falling from the trees made a crackling noise as they slowing cascaded to the ground.

As I neared Buddy’s grave I paused.

“Walk with me,” I whispered.

HE got up and trotted up to me, falling into step at his customary place by my side. His collar jingled as he trotted along and the soft wind rumpled his coat. As we rounded the bend the jingling stopped. I looked back over my shoulder; Buddy had automatically stopped and laid down as he had been taught.

I smiled to myself. “Good boy.”

I got the mail and walked back to him.

“Good boy!” I repeated as he got up.

As we started off again I leaned over and stretched my arm to the ground.

“Ready Buddy?” I asked softly.

He was in front of me immediately. Head slightly forward, his ears perked, eyes bright and alert, his mouth closed, barely breathing. He was frozen in place-except for his tail. It was a plume behind him, held high and moving in short, quick wags.

I lifted the rock above his head. He eyed it like a hawk. I released it and watched him race after it. Tail still up, he jogged back and dropped it at my feet. He backed up, his eyes begging for another toss.

“Not yet,” I told him.

We started walking again. Trotting attentively ahead of me, he kept glancing back expectantly.
We approached the cross which marked his resting spot. I stopped and lifting another rock, threw it at the grave. Buddy tore after it and instead of picking it up he looked at me, love and longing in his eyes. Then he lay down, put his head between his paws and disappeared. Though I could no longer see him his presence lingered with me as I walked the rest of the way back to the house and in my heart I knew that I never walk alone.

“Goodbye,” I whispered then corrected myself; “Till tomorrow.”