{"id":7395,"date":"2024-09-30T11:54:49","date_gmt":"2024-09-30T15:54:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dahlman.online\/?p=7395"},"modified":"2024-09-30T11:54:51","modified_gmt":"2024-09-30T15:54:51","slug":"requiem-for-buddy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dahlman.online\/index.php\/2024\/09\/30\/requiem-for-buddy\/","title":{"rendered":"Requiem for Buddy"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

We lost our senior dog, Buddy on Thursday.\u00a0\u00a0Sure we have five dogs, but that doesn\u2019t make losing one any easier.\u00a0\u00a0Buddy was our \u201cbest boy\u201d.\u00a0\u00a0He was part of our family and went through big changes in our lives.\u00a0\u00a0And he was a medical \u201cmiracle\u201d, a boy who helped future dogs extend their lives despite the ravages of cancer.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Rescue<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Buddy, like the rest of our pack, was a rescue.  I\u2019d like to say \u201cwe\u201d (Jenn and I) brought him home, but that would be stretching the truth.  The truth:  I got a text from Jenn at work that said, \u201cGoing to the shelter to get a dog\u201d.  While I was a very new husband, I instinctively knew what the right response was:  \u201cOK\u201d.   At that time, Buddy would be the third in our rescue group, along with Sierra, an elderly mix, and Dash, our thoughtful, considerate Yellow Lab.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At first, I wasn\u2019t sure Buddy and I would get along.  He was about one year old, undersized for a shepherd\/border-collie mix, and kind of wild.  After we first met, he jumped on the couch and nipped at me.  From the very beginning, he was definitely Jenn\u2019s dog.  He knew, after a couple of failed fosters and returns to the shelter, that Jenn was his savior.   But, at least for that first week, I wasn\u2019t so sure he was going to be a success with us, either.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It all changed when we opened his crate one night, and invited him to join \u201cthe pack\u201d in bed.  Sierra had her own low platform bed, but Dash slept with us.  And when Buddy jumped in and snuggled among us, his whole attitude changed. He was home, and we were family, and that was that.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

All that was more than a decade ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Survivor<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

We lost Sierra in 2014, and Dash and Buddy became fast friends.  Dash showed Buddy \u201cthe ropes\u201d in every situation.  We all went on walks, even runs, and Buddy learned the \u201cwilds\u201d of the school woods.  Buddy was a \u201cgood boy\u201d, and became the \u201calert\u201d dog when something was going on.  He could bark \u201cabove his weight class\u201d when he needed to; we didn\u2019t need doorbells anymore \u2013 Buddy knew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then Buddy got lumps in his throat.\u00a0\u00a0Our fantastic local vet, Dr. Hickin, warned us that it might be bad news. She sent us to Med-Vet in Worthington, one of the Columbus emergency veterinary hospitals.\u00a0\u00a0They made the diagnosis:\u00a0\u00a0our Buddy had a form of cancer, lymphoma.\u00a0\u00a0They could operate and remove the tumors, and he could take chemotherapy.\u00a0\u00a0If everything went \u201cwell\u201d, we could expect a couple more years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s nothing cheap about dog medicine, but Buddy was only three, healthy and active.  And we found Dr. Malone, a veterinary oncologist, willing to try a new treatment protocol.  So we went with it; surgery, then an eleven-month long treatment with a drug that Jenn and I had to wear gloves to handle. It all worked: and at the end, Buddy had no signs of lymphoma, and got to be a \u201cnormal\u201d dog once again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Travelling Dogs<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

In the meantime, Jenn and I retired, and  the four of us travelled the country.  We drove out to Colorado, through New Mexico and back.  Dash and Buddy ran around the Ophir Pass near 12,000 feet in altitude, tried to be good \u201crestaurant dogs\u201d in Silverton, and got to walk by the Rio Grande in Albuquerque. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

That became our plan.  We bought a camper, to \u201csnow-bird\u201d in Florida. Just the four of us, Jenn and I, Dash and Buddy.  We used the camper to  go to see a solar eclipse (well, they sort of saw it, we were shading their eyes) in Tennessee, and had a late September break, hiking around at our favorite Ohio state park, Salt Fork.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then cancer struck again, this time with Dash.  Within a couple of weeks, he went from healthy to struggling.  Dr. Hickin had sadness in her eyes as she sent us to Med-Vet once again.  This time it was a glioblastoma, sudden and deadly.  The medical choices were minimal and very short term, and we did the right thing for Dash, and let him go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We were all devastated, but Buddy was the worst.  Dash was his guide and teacher, now he was on his own.  We headed to Florida, and spent the winter there.  Buddy became a \u201cbeach and bar\u201d dog, comfortable in both environments.  That is, except for going in the ocean, he wasn\u2019t much fond of waves.  But he\u2019d jump in the intercoastal waterway for a swim, and loved hiking down the \u201cJungle Trail\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we came home in March, Buddy immediately searched the house for Dash.  So we decided he needed a new companion, who actually looked a lot like Dash.  We rescued Atticus from the Franklin County Shelter.  We soon discovered looks are deceiving.  Atticus was a wild man, not at all the intellectual Dash.  <\/em>But Buddy did his best to show him the ropes, even if \u201cAtticus-Baddicus\u201d wasn\u2019t a very willing learner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Leader of the Pack<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

We tried camping with Atticus and Buddy, but it was difficult.  And then we got involved with finding lost dogs. Some were found who didn\u2019t have owners.  Soon we had Keelie, our caring Australian shepherd mix, and then Louisiana, rescued from the parking lot of Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge.  And, somewhere in the middle of Covid, we also gained CeCe, a mix puppy found in a storm sewer in Dayton.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Camping with five dogs was out of the question.  Buddy became the \u201cold man\u201d of the pack, helping each new entry find their place.  Even when the other dogs were \u201carguing\u201d about where they stood, Buddy tried to maintain the peace.  And even as Buddy grew older, he still gamely raced across the yard to drive squirrels from our \u201cterritory\u201d, even if he was now last in the chase.  And when someone was doing something \u201cwrong\u201d in the backyard, Buddy was the first to let us know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Buddy was our evening \u201ctime keeper\u201d.  He told everyone when it was time for dinner.  But, like his Mom, Buddy was happy to sleep in the mornings.  The others wouldn\u2019t hear of it, and so Bud would grudgingly stagger out of the bedroom, looking sleepy and bedraggled, to join in the breakfast rituals.  He wanted to sleep, but he wasn\u2019t going to miss a meal in the process.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Buddy wasn\u2019t demanding (other than mealtimes).  Usually he\u2019d \u201cwaddle\u201d over a few times a day, to have his ears scratched, or a belly rub.  And his response was to stare at you with those bottomless brown eyes, sending his love deep into your soul.  And when he was done, he\u2019d roll over, and catch up on his beauty sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dignity<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s how we knew something  was really wrong last week.  Buddy wasn\u2019t coming out for breakfast.  He didn\u2019t really want to move at all, even to go outside.  But Buddy would never, ever, have an accident in the house.  It was undignified, something he wouldn\u2019t allow.  So we managed to get him to the door, and he made what was now the long trip down the stairs to the backyard.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Afterwards, Buddy lay panting in the hallway, trying to cool himself against the air conditioning duct.  The other dogs knew something was seriously wrong.  Keelie and Lou lay nearby, a vigil, with eyes on Buddy.  CeCe kept coming over to lick his face, and even Atticus was subdued. And while Jenn and I didn\u2019t say it, we both had a pretty good idea what was happening.  Last Thursday, we took him in to see his favorite, Dr. Hickin, one more time.  And we saw that same sadness in her eyes, the unspoken message that she thought the worst.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Best Boy<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

It was back to Med-Vet and a battery of tests to tell us what we already knew.  The lymphoma was back, now eight years later.  This time, treatment would only mean an extra couple of miserable months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jenn and I had our last few minutes with Buddy.  He was dopey from the tests and the drugs, but his eyes lit up and his ears perked when Jenn said, \u201cYou\u2019ll get to run with Dash again\u201d.  The folks at Med-Vet were gentle with him, and with us, as we said goodbye.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are now four dogs mourning at our house.  While they still go through the rituals of the day, there is always something missing, for them, and for us.  No one is telling me, \u201cyou\u2019re late for dinner\u201d.  No one is cheered as they come out of the bedroom door (except for Jenn, of course). It will take a while for us to all discover the new normal, a normal without Buddy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve got a friend who once told me after having to let his dog go, that he would never have another.  \u201cIt hurt so much, too much.  I can\u2019t go through that again\u201d.  And he was right about one thing.  It does hurt, so much.   But I am so glad we had the opportunity to have Buddy:  a rescue, a miracle, a beach dog and a bar dog and the \u201cbest boy\u201d ever.  Missing him hurts now,  a lot.  But our good memories are forever. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Goodbye, Buddy, thanks for everything.  You were the best.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dog Stories<\/h4>\n\n\n\n