|
My mother came home from work one day
with a cardboard box containing two tiny puppies. A woman
she worked with had brought the two pups into work
with her and asked if anyone wanted either of them or they
would be "put down". Apparently
one of her many dogs had had the pups and she and her husband wanted "no more dogs". The two tiny puppies in the box were just three weeks old and were cold, hungry, and missed their mother. One was a male and the other a female, although they were so tiny neither Mom nor I could tell which was which. I don't think I had ever seen anything quite so small, except perhaps for newborn kittens. The two tiny pups huddled together in the corner of their box, crying pathetically. My mother had already called a friend who was on the way out to take her pick of the pups. At the time, I worked in a busy flower shop, so Mom suggested I take whichever pup was left into work in the morning and see if a customer would give it a home. Both puppies were adorable, how could a three week old pup, not be. It would be hard to choose one, had I actually been planning to keep one of them, but of the two the shy, tan one with the white chest and paws caught my eye. My mother's friend arrived and wanted a female. She said she had been around very young puppies and could tell the difference. She took the darker colored, more active pup, which she said was the female, and left the tiny, shy, tan male pup with us. At bedtime the tiny pup was sill whimpering, all the more now that it's sister was gone and he was alone. We put a blanket in the box for the little guy to curl up on but his crying continued. I couldn't bare to hear himso I brought the box up to my bedroom and put him beside my bed so he wouldn't be alone. That didn't work, so I tried the old standby 'the ticking clock'. That didn't work either! He was fine as long as I held him and talked to him but when I put him back into the box he cried all the harder. Poor little thing! Finally, in desperation, I picked him up and wrapped the blanket around him and snuggled him next to me on the bed. There he finally, went to sleep! I was hooked from that moment on! I talked to a vet who said he was much too young to have been separated from his mother and suggested that we feed him baby cereal, 'pet' milk and yogurt for three or four weeks before we started to introduce puppy food. Puppy and puppy food supplies went to work with me the next day. I put the puppy on the seat beside me but he "had" to be close to his "new mama" and he was so small that he road to work on my lap. I made a spot close to me in the design-room where the pup could see me while I worked.He slept most of the time curled upon a blanket, in a cut down cardboard box that served as his bed. I had to feed him every few hours and I took him out every time he woke up or ate. He was really good and we had very few 'accidents'. Everyone who came into the flower shop made a fuss over him and thought he was so sweet. When they asked who he belonged to I said he was "mine"! I never asked anyone if they wanted him. I couldn't give him to anyone while he was so young and needed so much care. I named him "BUDDY" because he looked a little like a dog I had when I was a child. Each day Buddy and I went to work together. He was getting bigger and more active. He didn't sleep quite as much as he did before.When my boss and I designed floral pieces we worked along quickly cutting flower stems which would fall to the floor as we worked. The stems and leaves would be swept up later, either when we had more time or when the greens and stems at our feet got too high to work around. Buddy would venture out of his box-bed once in awhile and drag a gladiola stem back with him to play with. He was small enough to crawl under the ribbon rack, the bottom shelf being only inches off the floor. When Buddy eventually reached full grown it was hard for anyone, even me, to believe he had ever been able to fix under that shelf. But while he was still tiny, he and the gladiola stem would often disappear under the ribbon rack shelf! Buddy went to a Vet for a check-up, on the way home form work one day. All was well and he was doing fine. The Vet said to bring him back in a few weeks, once he was a little older and bigger, he would probably need to be wormed. When he was big enough to be wormed we took him up to our regular vet. It was then that we got a shock. Not only did my sweet little puppy have worms, not a big problem, but my sweet little puppy was a "She"! Apparently I got the female and my Mother's friend had gotten the male! We laughed! Obviously, at that point neither of us would even consider switching dogs, but my Mother's friend had to change her puppy's name from "Princess" to "Prince"! :-) I left Buddy's name as Buddy because she "was" my Buddy whether she was a he or a she. She was "always" my best Buddy! She slept with me every night and went to work with me every day. She was growing fast and was the cutest little girl! She no longer could fit on my lap when I drove the car so she would lay beside me on the car seat with her nose on my leg as I drove. She always liked to be close. My mother always sang around the house when I was growing up. One old song she often sang was called, "My Buddy"! (The midi playing now) It's a sad, beautiful song that I would often sing for Buddy. From those first nights when she was so tiny and so lonely without her mother or siblings I had rocked her in my arms like a baby and sang her lullabies. Even though Buddy was getting bigger she still liked to be held in my arms and rocked and sang to. Dogs are so forgiving and also so tone-deaf. :-) (The only other 'person' I ever sang to was my son when he was a baby.) Buddy was my first baby and the depth of my feelings for her were unexplainable. Only people who have experienced the heartfelt bond of extreme love for a pet can understand how I felt about her, my baby, my best friend, my Buddy! When it was time for her to be spayed I thought my heart would break at the idea of 'leaving' her at the Vet's. I wandered around the house lost without her, while wondering if she was okay, if she thought I had abandoned her. I played her song, "My Buddy" on the organ and couldn't wait for her to come home the next day. She forgave me! Buddy was now grown and able to stay at home when I went to work. We had moved to a place of our own and she was there to great me each day when I came home. She had a big easy chair on the sun porch where she would stay during the day. One day when I opened the front door my apartment was filled with gas fumes. My nephew, who was only three at the time, had turned knob on the gas stove on when his Mom had gone to check on something in the apartment for me. I ran straight for the sun porch, panicked that my Buddy might have been overcome by the terrible fumes. Buddy was fine! I had left one of the windows open a little and the fumes that filled the apartment had not seeped through the door between the kitchen and the porch. I just held her and cried! Buddy and I spend lots of time together. She wore a red bandana when we went driving. The girls at the drive-up window at the bank would send out dog biscuits with my deposit slip. She had grown into a beautiful dog, with a sleek, thick, red-gold coat and a loving disposition. The Vet always asked me if she was part Corgi as she looked very much like a larger sized Corgi. She had a long body and rather short legs and a fairly bushy tail that she usually would curl over her back. Her parents were supposedly a Pekinese and a Sheltie but the original owner must have had at least ten dogs so I doubt they really knew who the father was. When my son, Len, was born and we took him home from the hospital, I went into the house first without the baby. Buddy was wild to see me after having me gone for four days. She sniffed me all over and I hugged and petted her and then the baby was brought in. I held the baby down where Buddy could see and sniff him. She jumped when he gave a little cry. After that she decided he needed her protection. He was her baby too and she guarded his bassinet. She would sleep under the lace skirting, keeping guard for anyone except me or his father. Usually a friendly, docile dog, if anyone else came to near the bassinet, Buddy would rush out from her hidden guard post as fast as a striking snake, with her teeth barred. If the person approaching was my mother, she would look sheepishly embarrassed and wag her tail enough to say, "Sorry, Nana, you may see my baby." For anyone else, we would have to say, "No Buddy!" "It's okay." Then she would relax but keep an eye on the baby. She was the world's best baby sitter. Once my son got old enough to crawl around on the floor, Buddy would go lay beside him. He'd pull her hair and accidentally poke her in the eye with his fingers. When she had had enough, she would leave the room and watch him from under the bed in the next room. She was never jealous, nor did she ever hurt him. When he was old enough to sit up, she would flop down on her back and put her head in his lap. She seemed to be smiling up at him, "her baby". Len, grew up loving Buddy as much as she loved him. When started pre-school he often told his teacher and the other children that he had a dog named Buddy. One day the teacher said she had asked Len what color his dog was and he had thought for awhile and then told her, "Orange!" Well, she was orange, from a pre-schooler's point of view. She was a red-gold color, sort of a russet. At four years old, orange was the closest color that Len cold think of. We used to spend our Summer's at our cottage on the Saint Lawrence River and Buddy loved the water. She would swim out to retrieve balls, flip her tail as she did a U-turn and bring us back the ball to throw again. We took her out on the boat one day and she fell in love with boating. As timid as Buddy could be about thunderstorms, loud UPS trucks and guns being fired out in the woods during hunting season, I never expected she would like a noisy boat. From that first time, she wanted to join us every time she heard the boat motor start. She would cry and cry at the screen door when we left if we went without her. One day we were out on the boat when we looked up to see Grampa in his smaller trolling boat coming toward us. Buddy had cried so much that he had let her get into his boat and taken her out for a ride. She would go to the very front of the boat where she would brace herself, looking like a living masthead, face to the wind! Another thing I could count on Buddy for was as protection when I was not feeling well. When I was a child I was treated for very mild (petite maul) epileptic seizures. While I did out grow the disorder, I did continue to have severe migraine headaches. When I would have them I was really "out of it' and had to go into a dark room and sleep them off. Buddy would lay right beside me the whole time as if she felt I could not take care of myself at that time and needed her to say close. When I found my second dog, Snuggles, Buddy would put herself between me and Snuggles when I was ill and keep her away from me, as if to say, "Mama doesn't feel well and you are not to bother her now." As with all things, Buddy got older and with age came illness. She developed arthritis, especially in her back legs. She had a hard time getting up stairs, and although cortisone shots helped for quite awhile, after a time they stopped helping enough. Buddy had developed a habit of opening the cellar door with her nose and heading down there when there was a thunder storm or if the weather was very hot. Now; however, she could not get back up the stairs. Even carrying her up the stairs became painful for her. Then she started having seizures. The Vet said it was to be expected due to her age. He could run tests but he was reluctant to sedate her to do them, fearing the sedation would kill her. He believed the seizures were mini strokes and said that they would eventually get worse. At this time I was separated from my husband. My son, my two dogs and I were living with my mother while I was going to college full-time. My mother was petrified that she was going to find Buddy dead. She would have a seizures and if I was there I could keep her calm by getting down on the floor with her and holding her and talking to her, telling her it was ok, over and over. If I was with her she wouldn't fight it and after a little while she would come out of it and sleep. If I wasn't there she would be so frightened that she would fight the seizure, trying to stand up and move, and she would fall. She could no longer get up the stairs to sleep in my room at night but I could hear her when she started thrashing and would run down to her. As the seizures grew more frequent and more violent I had to agree with my mother that it was time. Now she was loosing bladder control and she would look up at me with sad eyes, embarrassed by what was happening, that she could not control. I kept putting it off, not wanting to make the inevitable decision. Dreading the day that would be the last. Knowing it had to come. Although I finally made the decision, years have passed and I still dream of "My Buddy". In all the dreams I am always searching for her. I know we will be together again . . . someday at the Rainbow Bridge. Buddy is and always will be a part of my heart. I still hear the words to the song I sang to her: "My Buddy. . . My Buddy . . . your buddy . . . misses you." |
The Rainbow Bridge Please Visit my other Pet Tribute Page: [DUSTY - DEATH of a FRIEND]< If you are dealing with the loss of a pet, Please Visit A Very Special Place: The PET LOSS Page  A
Beautiful Place to Visit!
On September 18, 1998 I was honored to receive my first awards, one for this page and one for "Dusty". Thank You so much! Sign Our Guest Book 
View
Our Guest Book
[(Home)] [A Little About Us] [Boldt Castle - Gift of Love] [Lighthouses of Jefferson County] [Town of Rutland - Cemeteries] [Town of Rutland - Cemeteries - Surnames] ["Greetings from Our Place" - FREE Postcards] [Family & Friends Photos Page] [Our Place Links] [The Rainbow Bridge] [For My Best Friend - Buddy's Story] [Dusty - Death of a Friend] [Memories . . . of Our Beautiful Boxers] Thank you for visiting. You are visitor #  .
© Copyrighted 1997, 98, 99, 2000 - 05
|
