Buddy's Passing

Dear Friends,

Last night, I kept waking from a dream that everything in the world had changed; no visiting with family and friends, no phone calls, no mail delivery, just sterility and isolation.  As I pawed through the meaning, I remembered that Buddy was no longer with us and nothing would ever be quite the same.

Especially during these past nine months, when much of my world has been defined by our house, Buddy has been my most constant companion, preferring to keep me within his line of sight at all times, only resting when he could be within a few feet of my body.  Except when he was in the backyard, taking care of business or eating deer poop and compost, being home meant being with Buddy.  (Ed never was able to build a compost fence that he could access but Buddy could not.)

Yesterday I kept my promise to Buddy and myself; that if he was ever clearly suffering I would not ask him to linger any longer than it took to make sure his condition was irreversible.  After weeks of an incurable cough, it was clear that he had gone from being a 12-year-old puppy to being in some form of organ failure.  All the signs of distress materialized within two days and we put him down yesterday.

For those of you who walk with me and Buddy along side of us, you know his enthusiastic puppiness, the spring of his step, and his penchant for pausing to savor multiple “environments”.  And for those of you who are not dog lovers and wondered why after twelve years we had still not been able to train him to not carry on every time someone came to the door, the barking of greeting is over.  He and I were so intertwined that his absence is almost as clear as his presence.  Yesterday was a very sad day and today feels much the same.

Sarah spent the day here and slept over last night.  Buddy's loss has been difficult for her as well.  He was her puppy and the greeting they gave each other every time Sarah walked in the door was to be envied, in both directions. 

Buddy was our perfect dog AND he was Trouble with a capital “T”.  He was the grand opportunist.  He almost never did anything untoward when we were home, but oh the trouble he could get into the moment we left the house.  “Dog proofing” became both a science and an art.  Anything food - within reach or jump - was vulnerable.  Even if we did not notice and correct an errant placement before we left the house, Buddy was a master of detection. 

Today’s quiet, without the clicking of Buddy’s nails, the watching out for him underfoot, and the company of his attention is new and unwelcome.  He won’t be around if and when my symptoms abate.  His enthusiastic devotion is already missed.  We are so lucky to have had him in our lives for the past 11 1/2 years.  Now we stumble on without him, my wonkiness a little more noticeable because of his absence, my appreciation of his spirit undiminished.

With love,

Karen