Buddy's Story

This is a follow up to my last story on my Brittany, Buddy. I had to take Bud to the vet this morning and have him euthanized. Not easy and certainly not fun. Last night we almost lost Buddy to his breathing disorder. He had been out walking, laid down at a certain point and just couldn't get his breath as his larynx closed up on him. Anyway after that last experience, I knew we had to let him go. We spent good time together beforehand and had plenty of time to say goodbye.

But here's some of Buddy's story. I got him 10 years ago from a nearby shelter. I had recently lost another dog and my brother was up visiting from New Jersey. He convinced me we should spend part of a day going to few shelters and just taking a look at some dogs. Off we went. We saw and met all types and breeds of dogs. Some were great looking but didn't have the best personality. Then we found Buddy. His shelter name was Dingle. He was beautiful as you can see from his picture. On the top of his head was a little tuft of reddish hair that always grew longer than the rest of his head hair. He was a bit dirty and stinky from his three month kennel stay.

The folks at the shelter gave me the most history they had. Supposedly he had run away from somewhere, was picked up and was a hard sell kind of adoption. They estimated his age at between 5 and 6 which I think was an over estimate. Part of the reason Buddy was a hard sell was because of his behavior. He had been beaten badly by his previous owner. There were deep scars on his head. As a result, he cowered and feared human contact, especially from men. When he came out to meet me, he sat at my feet shaking and peed and peed and peed. In his cage he played with his feces. I left the shelter thinking no, this wouldn't work.

My brother went back to Jersey a few days later and I returned to the shelter, spent some time with Buddy and made the arrangements to adopt him. Since I was over 60 and he was over five, I got a special senior to senior discount and we were on our way. I wanted to make sure he peed before we got in the car. All set, we loaded up. Buddy was put in the front seat and we began our journey home about 45 minutes away. Soon after I got on the highway, Buddy got down on the floor by the front seat, curled up in a ball and shook all the way home. Somehow though I think way down deep, Buddy knew things were different and that everything was going to be ok. He loved rides from that day forward and I'd always laugh thinking of that first scary ride for both of us.

When we got home, I left Buddy in the garage which he promptly used like his cage at the shelter. He relieved himself and played with the results. Buddy still had to meet Samantha, Sam for short. Sam was an older Beagle that had lived with us for awhile. She had her Beagle quirks and would be the alpha dog in her and Buddy's relationship. They met, he liked her and she tolerated him, to a point.

But it was Buddy and me who's relationship grew. I took him everywhere to help to socialize him from his downright fear of people. People would look at him or walk past him and he'd lean against my leg, shaking and looking anxious and sometimes wetting himself and my shoe. Over time he lost his fear of people and was one of the sweetest and friendliest dogs I've ever known.

Buddy would always sleep with me but interestingly when we had guests, if it was ok, he would always sleep in bed with them. It was almost like a welcome gesture and a reaching out for another friend.

So that was our journey together. We lost Sam along the way but had great times, walking, rolling in the grass and Bud doing actual somersaults on his long leash and then running and body slamming me. He was a true Brittany, loved to run in circles all day long. That's Buddy's story, a guy who was beaten up badly but who found a good home in the end. His last truly funny act was the Pound Cake and the berries (see previous post) which he seemed to enjoy immensely. The best thing is, he knew he could get away with it.