Bye Buddy

Allow me this time to say goodbye to a friend.

I lost my dog last week.  And to date, I still grieve his demise.  Oh he was old.  And perhaps is better off in his dog heaven.  But I still miss him and cannot even afford to go to the back of our house to see the empty space he used to sleep in.

For those who have no love for pets, or just treat them as a consequential being that vacuums their meal leftovers, I know I may sound overly corny and unnecessarily sad.  But there are many things I have learned from my dog.  Foremost is his unconditional love.

Buddy who was a small-boned Labrador, joined our family fifteen years ago.  He loved to bite.  Those small love nibbles that dogs do to show their affection.  Dog-phobic, I did not like that display so I taught him to bite something else if he wanted to play with me.  He would pick anything around like his play bone, an empty bottle and even leaves to keep his mouth clenched as he would nudge me to pat him.  I would hesitate of course.  Having been bitten by a German Shepherd when I was a kid…well, I did pull his tail while he was eating though…Buddy showed me it was safe to touch him and in time I comfortably played with our dog.

He would revel at the attention given him and would prance about my husband and me whenever we would arrive home.  As he was a hunting dog, he could run fast.  And it was just too bad we could not provide him with enough space to fully test his speed.  But Buddy did not mind.  He would run back and forth the pavement right in front of our gate and make his spins to show his joy.  When spent, he would go back inside our gate and sit on his rug.

As he aged, Buddy had incontinence problems which got him into trouble.  He would get scolded often as we did not understand his dilemma.  At the slightest raise of our voices, Buddy would bow his head and look sad.  He would keep his stance of subservience and stay in a corner waiting for tempers to abate as we would clean his mess.  After a while he would look at us with doe-eyes.  His wrinkled face tilting as though asking permission if it was all right to move about again.  He would wait patiently until he sensed he was forgiven.

The holidays were uncomfortable for Buddy.  The firecrackers were torture to him so he had to be in the house.  That was the only time he was allowed in so he must have been glad in spite of the deafening sounds to his sensitive ears. He enjoyed Christmas and New Year with us because he could eat his share of Noche Buena with us around him.  He was good company.  He knew his place in the house.  He would wag his crooked tail and raise his brow in anticipation every time we called his name.

One time we thought we lost Buddy when he did not go home after his physical routine outside the gate.  We had to search the neighborhood for him then saw him limping at a distance.  He had figured in a dog fight in pursuit of his manhood. 

Day by day as Buddy grew old he maintained that same quiet disposition that would brighten up when we would be near him.  Though we noted he eventually abhorred his baths which he enjoyed early on.  He also gave up some of his bone treasure hunting and digging.  When we noticed his weight reduce with his appetite, we knew he was no longer well.  The vet told us he was acting his age.  Fifteen years times seven was the usual age count. 

Seeing his deteriorating health, my husband would not allow me to go where Buddy was kept because he knew I would be sad to see how helpless our energetic bundle has become.  It was even suggested that he be “allowed to sleep” but I would not hear of it.

Then last Monday, Buddy just slept.  The grief that I felt was heart rending.  And those who never loved their pets would not understand.  I could not watch my husband as he dug Buddy’s resting place.  I could not even peep outside our window to see Buddy put to rest.  I just allowed myself to weep. 

In the midst of my pain I remembered a dear friend  Ed Cordero tell me that they never got another lab after their dog died.  No one can replace Buddy.  And just as I was beginning to succumb to the same defeat, I remembered how Buddy was to us.  He was a good dog.  A stress reliever, a happy, obedient pup. My dog-phobia therapist. A loyal friend.

Buddy taught me so many things as if he were not a dog.  He taught me to take risks in loving.  He showed me the value of patience in building relationships.  In one time when he was dealing with a pesky rat, he showed me how to face issues.  He patiently just watched the rat, observed how it moved and studied its weakness then did the pounce.

Buddy also showed me how to negotiate. Once while still a puppy, he would not let go of the rag that I needed to wipe his wet hair after a bath.  He would pull it hard when I would tug it and would bite it more securely if I would force him to open his mouth.  When I would tell him to “give” he would just let it go. He just needed me to say the right words. Win-win.

Since he did not want to have dog food all the time, he would do some tricks so he would be given the treats.  He knew how to work for what he wanted.

How can you let the experience of having a good friend just die? How can you let go of a member of your family?  I think I owe it to Buddy to love another dog.  So I will search for one who needs a home and love again.

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