RIP Buddy

Folks, my dog, and occasional guest blogger, passed away today. Rather, my mom and I made the decision to put him down. He was sick, and after 14 years and nearly three months of taking care of the rest of us, it was time for me to take care of him one last time, and let him go. He shouldn't have been made to spend his last months sick, unable to do the things he loved to do. That would be cruel. So today, he left.

Now, he can eat pizza crusts, cheerios, and dozens of chocolate chip cookies to his heart's content. I just hope someone's there to take him for a walk, because I can't anymore. And that's what I think I'll miss the most. Some of my happiest memories are going to be of walking with the dog, him constantly pulling at the leash, constantly stopping to sniff every tree, as I tried to tug him along in exasperation. We both knew I'd let him get what he wanted though, and he did. In reality, he was always walking me.

Aside from our walks, I think the thing I'll remember the most is just sitting with Buddy in the basement of my mom's house, where he was a constant presence. As he got older, I think the dog and I got closer, and as I got wrapped up with the stresses of young adulthood and law school, the dog was always there to help reduce that. Distinctly, I recall a night a year or so back where I had had a very traumatic event happen, an event involving a young woman who was very special to me. As I returned home early in the morning, quite distraught, I remember being happily surprised to see that the dog, hearing my arrival, had woke up and come downstairs. Once there, he just sat next to me. And then, as if sensing my need for comic relief, as he headed back upstairs to bed, he ran into a half-closed door in the dark. Needless to say, once I determined he was alright, it was rather funny...

There's only so much you can say though. In the end, Buddy has been my friend, my best friend, since I was 12. That's more than half my life. And now, all of a sudden, he is gone, and of course that is painful. It will be so very difficult to, for the first time in years, experience a stress-free dinner without a whiny dog in my lap begging for food. It will be hard to not have a dog to walk. Mainly though, it will be hard to not have a dog to understand.

Maybe that was the thing about Buddy. For all his youthful craziness, and strange quirks (such as taking his food out of his bowl, placing it on the floor, and then eating it), he always understood. And I'll miss him terribly for that. It's comforting to know that he lived so long, and so well. That he saw his entire family in the weeks before his passing, and that when it came, my mom and I could be with him.

So, in celebration of a long and beautiful life, here's to you Bud. I'll see you again in a while... and I'll let you have my pizza crusts.