Wednesday, February 27, 2013

For you, Celeste & Jack



A friend of mine had to send her beloved dog to doggie heaven yesterday and it got me thinking about my own heathens. Started going through old pictures and came across this one. I've posted many of these types of pictures in the past. Probably a dozen or so. And I realized something.  After Bailey died five years ago, Buddy was our oldest dog. When we'd come home and find these disasters, I'd blame everybody except Buddy. By blaming, I mean I'd say, "Bodi? Did you do this?" or I'd look at Baxter and say, "Bad boy". And that was the end of it. Nobody ever suffered any consequences so it didn't really matter.  Buddy was never questioned.  But now that Perfect Dog Buddy has been gone for over a year, it dawned on me...this has not happened once since he's been gone!! Buddy!! You got us!!

Everyone loved that dog. Can't put my finger on it, (just like I can't put my finger on why (to me) Lisa Vanderpump looks way older than 52 - is it her hair? The way she dresses?) but Buddy just had "it".

The first time I had to put a dog down was in October of 1999. Sir Spankford Vahn Doolittle (a/k/a "Spanky") was my first pet as an adult. I had just moved from Orlando to Jacksonville to be with my girlfriend at the time. After having lots of friends in Orlando and going to just the two of us, I decided a puppy was in order. Well, that and a few chicken wings and a pitcher of beer. OK - two pitchers. This was before "google", so we got a newspaper and found someone who was selling cocker spaniels on the "west side". Some people say 'the west side is the best side' (of Jacksonville), but I'm not one of them. So we got to the trailer park, found the right trailer, and were invited inside. There must have been ten cocker spaniel puppies running around, each one cuter than the next. How would I ever choose? Then I saw him. My dog. He was sprawled out on the little air vent with the AC blowing back his little ears. It was love at first sight! His eyes said, "I'd love to show you more of me and how cute I am, but is it worth losing my spot?"

That dog was the light of my life for ten years.

We (new girlfriend and I) got Bailey when Spanky was about six years old. Bailey is a whole 'nother story. Swear we were mother/daughter in a former life. She took it very hard when Spanky died. My partner and I went away to visit friends in the country for a long weekend about a month after Spanky died. Bailey had been depressed. On the ride over, we discussed getting another dog from the shelter when we got home. We agreed it was time and it'd be good for Bailey.

The next morning I was telling my friend about it being time to get another dog. She said that there was a cute black stray who ran with a pack. Said he seemed very sweet and she wanted to keep him, but her husband put his foot down. Long story short, the dog showed up alone, I patted my thigh and said, "Here Buddy", and that's all she wrote. He was with me from 11/99 through 01/24/12.

There are many Buddy stories I could share, but my all time favorite is this: My partner at the time and I decided to take Bailey and Buddy to Jekyll Island, GA. We were the only ones on the beach for miles (except for the sand dollars of which there were hundreds). Decided to go to town one afternoon and took them for a ride (the dogs, not the sand dollars). Stopped at a gas station at a very busy intersection and my partner pumped the gas. I decided I wanted something from inside and when I got out of the car, Buddy escaped. He was running wildly all over the place and I was freaking out thinking that he'd be hit by a car. Strangers helped us corner him by a bread delivery truck. By the time I got close to the truck, Buddy had run up into the truck. I finally got to the truck just in time to see Buddy lift his leg on the driver. All I could see was pee running down the leg of his black polyester pants. He was very tall black man talking on a cell phone. As I slowly looked up and met his eyes he said to the other person on the phone, "Ima hafta let you go. A damn dog just peed all up my leg."

I'm sure I fumbled an apology, got Buddy in the car, and I went inside to get my stuff. I felt something piercing the top of my head and when I turned around, it was the bread man staring down at me. I tried to apologize and he gave me the "talk to the hand" wave.

So, my friend, as much as you're suffering today and the days to come, please know that one day you will be able to remember your Schatzi girl with more smiles than tears.

RIP Schatzi - and give smooches to Buddy, Bailey, Spanky and all the other puppies. We'll all be together one day. You'll see. And tell Mr. Buddy that his mommies know about all those dog beds and pillows.

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