Remembering Buddy…

I was supposed to give you the final  installment on 1 Corinthians 4:14-21 today, but I think I will  pick that up next week so that I can do something that is a bit different today.   I hope this is okay.

I am writing this at 4:00 in the morning (so pardon the mistakes) and I don’t think I will be going back to bed so I thought I could just get some feelings down on paper.  At about 2:30 this morning our beloved Buddy left us.  He was, of course, more than a dog.  He was family.   He was part of our kids and grandkids lives.   He was with us in good times and rough times and his love was always a comfort to us.   Buddy’s sweet nature was a constant in the swirling changes of our lives.  I can honestly say, Buddy never caused us any grief.  He was the kind of dog that everyone would want to have. 

We never had a fence, but he never left the yard unless he left with us.  He would sit on the deck or in the grass or by the garage and would stay there or somewhere close until  we called him.  He seldom barked at other dogs and was protective but polite to those who visited the house.   He gave a us a loving greeting every time we returned home.   Every one of the grandkids had accidental  falls, tugs, or rides on Buddy and he never gave it a thought.  He just got ready for the next time.

Before Buddy’s legs succumb to old age and cancer, he use to race back and forth with the neighbor dogs on the other side of the fence.  Long after Buddy wasn’t in racing form any more, if those dogs would bark, Elaine would say, “There’s your friends” and Buddy would always look longingly their way as if he was thinking of the wild runs of the past.  One of our granddaughters has a dog named Tucker who would visit once in awhile.  Even when Tucker wasn’t around Elaine would try to get Buddy to eat his food by saying,  “Better eat your food, Tucker will get it.”  It always worked, but I am pretty sure Buddy was actually training Elaine to say that!  (Buddy and Tucker)

We got Buddy when I was teaching in North Bend and Elaine split some of her time between  there and Winston.   Elaine did not want another dog after our shepherd-mutt Barkley passed away finally losing a battle with cancer.  But a little over a year later I went to Saving Grace (a dog rescue mission) on Christmas Eve to look for another companion protector for us- instead  I found a family member.  I walked into Saving Grace and all the dogs were loudly pleading their case but one.   Buster (that was his name then) just quietly sat there and drew me over to him with his polite manner, perked up ears, and  proud stance.

I knew this was the guy for us.   I told the girl who was in charge that I would like to take “Buster” home with me, but she informed me that he had not had his shots yet and I would have to wait until after Christmas.  That was so disappointing because I really wanted him to be a Christmas surprise for Elaine.  While I was standing there trying to figure out my next step, the back door swung open and in walked one of my previous students.   She said that when she was leaving work early to do some last minute shopping she passed me on the road and recognized my truck.  She then said that she was the one that gave the shots and she thought I might need her help if I picked out unvaccinated dog, so she turned around.  Her “hunch” was right.   At that time I did not understand how much God’s good providence would change our lives.

I loaded Buddy in the front seat and he sat there as though he had ridden there a hundred times. When I drove up to the house there was an instant that I saw in Elaine’s face the “I told you I did not want another dog”  expression, but her face quickly changed to, “this is a perfect dog for us.”  And he was.  He checked all the boxes.  Loving, obedient, good with  kids, protective but not scary, energetic but not out of control.  He was perfect.  Elaine forgave me faster than she ever had for one of my wrongdoings. 

Over the years Buddy (we changed his name on his arrival to the family) shared in every part of our lives.  He would go camping with us, he would travel to see the grandkids, he stayed in motels with us, he would go to my school on work days, he would travel with Elaine, he would take me on walks, and he would keep Elaine company when I was in North Bend and she was here.  He loved to ride in the back of the truck and would go with me to the dump, to Lowe’s, to Home Depot, and any other place he could coax me into.   He loved to have the wind blow in his face and when we got to our destination he would get so excited he would strain his chain to the breaking point! If I just touched the leash in the house he would jump up and down like a young pup.  He loved going places.

Buddy loved his treats and being called Bud-Dog and Bud-boy and Dork-dog by Elaine who had a special bond with him.  She would brush him time and time again and must have taken off hundreds of bags of fur through the years.   She would rub his ears and cool him down with wet towels if he got too hot.  The mission told us that Buddy had separation anxiety and from the day we got him he liked to keep one of the two of us in sight.  If Elaine was watering flowers Buddy would  move to stay close to her.  If I left the garage to cut wood, Buddy would be right behind me.  Even  when Buddy was on his death bed, he would turn his head to make sure he could see at least one of us. His love for us was as real as ours was for him.    

I could write a book on Buddy and maybe someday I will.   Buddy was a special dog not just for us, but for anyone who met him.  He loved everyone and everyone loved him.  When I took him to town he was a celebrity and had as many fans as a new-born baby.    There was not a time when I took him somewhere that someone didn’t remark  on his good looks and manners. 

Buddy was also a battler.  A little over a year ago he had cancer surgery and fought back from that.  It slowed him down, but he kept his Buddiness and was still the same dog we had known and loved for over twelve years.  A couple of months ago he had a stroke and was amazingly recovering from that.  He walked like he was on the deck of ship in high winds, but he got to where he needed to go. Occasionally, he would “fall” (more a slow sit down) but could usually get back up on his own with just a little bit of coaxing or the promise of a treat .  Unfortunately his health took a sudden downturn over the past four days and he became very weak.

Last night I was sleeping on a little bed next to Buddy and I suddenly woke up.  I sensed there was something  different .  I reached over and started to pet Buddy and he turned to look at me.  His eyes had a different look.   I stroked him a few times, told him I loved him, and he went to sleep for the final time.  I think he waited for me to wake up, so he would not be going alone.   I got Elaine and we spent time crying over a loss that will take a long time to get over.    Buddy taught Elaine and me a lot, but maybe most importantly was how to love unconditionally.  From that Christmas Eve night to his last night with us he was the same lovable, loyal, and loving dog.   If people could overlook mistakes by others the way Buddy overlooked our mistakes, this world would be a much better place.  

We buried him this morning at the end of the fence where he used to chase “his friends.”    He spent his life giving us joy.   Now it’s time for him to rest.