Buddy, you performed you one task very...VERY well. Your former (and your current) Master is very pleased.
Good boy, Buddy!
Good boy.
Posted on 05/21/2007 7:23:48 PM PDT by uglybiker
I apoligize in advance for being so long winded, but I felt the need to share.
5:00am. I'm up and stumbling around the house like I usually do at this time of morning getting ready for work. Keys?...check. Smokes?...check. Lighter?...check. Monster mug o' coffee?...check.
Okay. I've got all the important stuff covered. I walk to the back door with a quick stop at the pantry to pull out a dog cookie. I walk out the door and something is missing. Normally, at the bottom of the steps, is a largish, wooly, mixed-breed dog. His name is Buddy. During the warmer part of the year (which we have alot of here in Arizona), he likes to sleep out in the yard where the ground is cooler. Normally he can hear me bumbling around the house in the morning, so he comes to the back steps to wait for me to come out. He always knew that 'Daddy' would give him some well-deserved attention and a cookie before he left. That was the daily ritual and I did my best to keep my part of the bargain.
He'd been getting along in years and, every once in awhile, I guess he'd sleep so soundly that he wouldn't hear me, and I'd find him still asleep in the yard right at the back corner of the house. He was there this morning, but when I called him, he didn't move. His body was still warm, his limbs were still limber, but my friend was gone.
And a hole opened in my heart.
No more will I see that wagging tail, those perked ears and that goofy dog grin as he lays with his paws crossed --always right over left-- just behind the back gate. Where he would stay almost motionless until the gate is actually open and "OHBYOHBOYOHBOY! DADDY'S HOME!!"
No more when I open the back door will he squirt in and play Kentucky Derby through the house with the cat. First one leading, then the other.
No more in the spring when the mulberrys flower and all the fuzzy bits fall to the ground and seemingly every #%&$%$# on gets stuck in his fur when he tries to come in the house...
No more will he lay his head on my knee and look up at me with those watery eyes and that disarming 'goofy dog grin' that he had perfected so well. That look said he knew who his master was. And that was all that mattered.....and would Master please give him a cookie? ;-)
Flashback to ten years ago.
November '97. I had recently moved to Arizona and was renting a room from my folks while I was getting myself established. I had just received a sizeable promotion at work and had saved up enough to put a down payment on a house. I was finally starting to move up in the world.
I got to work to pull a weekend shift when the man at the front gate ask me:"You know anybody who wants a dog? He's been wandering around here for two days. I felt sorry for him, so I gave him a frozen waffle I was going to have for breakfast. He likes me now. I call him 'Buddy'." My father worked at the same place at the time and, before I knew it, my parents had driven down, coaxed him into their car and brought him home. (My family has a failing when it comes to stray critters. We all have a couple.)It took the better part of a day to get him to come up to me. But when he figured out I was okay, he wasn't going anywhere. We debated on taking him to the local animal shelter, but I figured that since he was so skiddish, nobody would take him. So, when the paperwork on my house cleared a couple of weeks later, he came home with me.
He still had alot of puppy in him, so there were some problems at first. My utility trailer got stripped of all its wires, the power lead to my AC was pulled off, about two hundred holes showed up in my 'new' backyard, and I got notices stuck on my front door from animal control complaining about a barking dog. But he eventually settled down and even made up with the neighbors. One even told me that she didn't mind him barking so much because "he's not only watching your yard, he's watching mine, too!" Before long, he had truly lived up to his name. What had been some uncaring person's cast off, quickly became my closest and truest friend.
Buddy never was a big fan of the ugly bike. He didn't mind the noise, he just knew that whenever he saw me loading stuff on it, I was going somewhere and wasn't taking him.
Time rolled on. I got another promotion at work, my Father retired and my parents moved to eastern Texas. My folks always seeming to need something either hauled to them or hauled back, a couple times a year I would load up the truck and head east. Me at the wheel and Buddy behind the drivers seat with his head on the console. We took this trip enough times that we had our own scheduled stops. First: the New Mexico Welcome center on I-40. Second: The Love's truckstop west of Amarillo. Third: just outside of Witchita Falls and last: a little picnic area on Highway 82 not far from Paris, Tx.
As he got older, he developed hip displasia and got to where he couldn't climb in the truck. So I whipped up a small foldable ramp so he could walk in. He was always ready to go somewhere.
Flash back to the present.
By now, I was running late for work, so I moved Buddy from the yard and put him in the breezeway next to his dog box. My supervisor was understanding. All guys know what if feels like when you lose your dog. Also my work load was light, so I was able to leave early to take care of the business of what to do with this, that which is all that is left of my best friend.
The soil in this part of Arizona is composed mostly of rock, clay and calichi. I would almost have to rent a jackhammer to dig a proper grave. But my local veterenarian offers a cremation servce. It's not cheap, but I'm not complaining. In a couple of weeks, I will receive a small box of ashes that will be placed where I have a spot prepared under my bedroom window next to a cat who was also a very true friend.
When I got to the vet office, they had me pull around back where two assistants laid out a sling, gently rolled him into it and together (he weighed almost 100 pounds) we carried him inside to the last place I would see him.
I turned around to go and remembered somethng. I knelt down and removed the collar that I had put on him a long, long time ago. He didn't need it anymore.
I was no longer his Master.
There was a thread here the other day that posed the question about whether our pets go to heaven. I didn't read the whole thing, but I seem to remember a poster saying that there is a reason animals are rarely mentioned in Scripture. The Bible was written for mankind. Animals don't need a guide on how to live their lives.It is very scant on details about what happens to animals when they pass on. So anything I can add would be strictly my opinion. You can take it for what it's worth.
And, in my opinion, I believe that our pets are a physical manifestation of our Creator's love for us.
They are sent to us to perform one task, and one task only. And that is to serve their masters.
In doing so, they are also a reminder to their masters that they too have one task. And that is to serve Our Lord and Master.
The sheer exuberence at which they go about their one task is a reminder of how we should go about ours.
And as their lives are but a few short years, they remind us that, as their physical bodies must return to the earth whence they came, so too shall be our fate. And we should make the best of the short time we have been blessed with.
I cannot say for sure that our pets go to Heaven. I will only say that if the hereafter is supposed to be paradise, that paradise would be a bleak place indeed if my best friend is not there to share it with me.
As I type this, his collar is sitting on my desck by my keyboard. I look around the room and I see over in one corner, a very well-chewed rope toy. In another corner is the knot off a rawhide bone next to an old blue blanket he would lie on when he would come inside. I'm not sure what to do with them yet. Do I throw them out or save them for the next dog? I say next for it seems to be my lot that when one of my animals passes, a short time later another one shows up needing a home.
But I will always have a very special place for a largish, wooly dog with a 'goofy dog grin'.
I’m so sorry for your loss. It sounds like Buddy was a happy guy and brought you lots of joy.
Neighbor, let me attempt to post something halfway coherent to you- we went through a similar thing in February, and my wife just today walked off the job she had had and loved for eight years- so we join the incomeless, and an uncertain future today...
But... I know about the silence, and that hole in your heart. I/we— are truly sorry.
Our adventures were chronicled here:
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/chat/1777582/posts
and here:
“A Heart Full Of Taffy” pretty well sums it up, here:
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/chat/1777582/posts?page=79#79
And here are some books:
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/chat/1777582/posts?page=80#80
God bless. I know it’s hard.
i am so sorry about the loss of your dog, i couldn’t help but cry the whole way through your story.
As time goes on that frown will turn into a smile when you swap stories about old Buddy.
Heres to Buddy, a good old dog!
The Lord can ease the pain in your heart... even for these good friends... He gave them to us to love us unconditionally.
Lord Bless you in your time of grief.
Gary
What a wonderful tribute to a beloved dog. You are a wonderful writer, UB.
“Grief is the obverse of happiness. They are two sides of a single coin,
and only the vulnerable know either.”—Irving Townsend
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful tribute to a very special furkid. My prayers are with you both.
“A loved one is not gone until they are forgotten.
And to live in the hearts of those left behind is to live forever”.
I literally have tears in my eyes from reading this. My sincerest condolences.
Your story moved me to tears. It is a beautiful tribute. All pet owners go through this eventually. It is never easy. I know from experience there is very little one can say to help. I also know that having another dog helps take that empty feeling away. Sounds like Buddy had a great life and was lucky to have you as his master.
I am so sorry and you wrote such a loving tribute to Buddy
A Little Dog Angel
High up in the courts of heaven today
a little dog angel waits;
with the other angels he will not play,
but he sits alone at the gates.
“For I know my master will come” says he,
“and when he comes he will call for me.”
The other angels pass him by
As they hurry toward the throne,
And he watches them with a wistful eye
as he sits at the gates alone.
“But I know if I just wait patiently
that someday my master will call for me.”
And his master, down on earth below,
as he sits in his easy chair,
forgets sometimes, and whispers low
to the dog who is not there.
And the little dog angel cocks his ears
and dreams that his master’s voice he hears.
And when at last his master waits
outside in the dark and cold,
for the hand of death to open the door,
that leads to those courts of gold,
he will hear a sound through the gathering dark,
a little dog angel’s bark
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. A month ago I had to put my best kitty of 19 years down due to cancer. It has been hard but everyday seems to get a little easier. The tears will turn to smiles when you remember all of the wonderful and loving years together.
I am so very, very sorry. Dogs aren’t “like” members of the family, they ARE members of the family. I am so sorry. Our own dog, Chase, died last year and we still feel the loss. What little I read of your post, before I started crying, was beautiful. I’ll read the rest in a few days.
My deepest condolences, and I hope you find it in your heart to open yur life to another dog sooner than later. Our dogs’ biggest failing is that they are with us such a short time.
Condolences on your loss from one who lost a beloved Chow to old age (17 years) a few years ago-I still miss him, although I dearly love the female Husky we have now. I’m so glad your Buddy had such a happy life-and I believe we will all see our pets again in the next life.
Wow. Wonderful post. Beautifully written. You really should publish this. When you feel ready, I hope you find a new Buddy as good as the last one. Not for replacement, but for even more friendship.
I had a similar story of taking a dog to the vet and not picking it up because of a serious illness. I have felt many times that I really failed the love of that dog. I was too young and immature to deal with this dog’s death. Actually, she was a neighbor’s dog, but came around our house all the time. We hadn’t seen her in a while, she came around, it was obvious she was near death from heart worms. I really regret not being there for her. But at that age, it was easier for me to block it out of my mind than go in with her. It has been 40 years and as I write this tears come to my eyes.
By Heart Jim Brickmann
Hold me close, Baby please,
Tell me anything but that you are going to leave.
As I kiss this falling tear, I promise you I will be here.
Til The stars fall from the sky,
til I find a reason why
and darling as the years go by.
Til the no tears left to cry,
til the angels close my eyes,
And even if we are worlds apart
I’ll find my way back to you, by heart.
When you go, I’ll stop the clock.
I wont ever let this moment stop.
Time is stealing you from me, but it can never take this memory.
Sorry if the spelling is bad..but there seems to be something in my eyes.
Was Buddy a Shetland Sheepdog? He looks like the Shelties I've known over the years.
Here's to my memories of my Shelties:
And here's to you and your memories of Buddy.
raising glass -- clink!
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