BuckyThe Wonder Dog

It’s a rare and frigid night.  I have the house all to myself.  It’s the perfect night to snuggle up in a blanket and catch up on show’s I’ve missed, or to read more than a page of a book before being interrupted, or to soak in a long hot bath.  But instead I’m simply going to spend a quiet evening with one of my best friends in the world. 

We met him seven years ago.  He was a rumpled, shaggy mess, full of anxiety and pent up energy, and bursting with love to give.  He had big soul-searching brown eyes, velvety soft ears, crazy unruly bear-like fur, and longer than normal legs for a Golden Retriever.  He was timid and shy when we met at the Humane Society, but what he lacked in exuberance he made up for with his persistence, continually reminding me to pet him by gently placing his paw on my knee whenever my hand left his head for more than a minute.  His off kilter way of lying down so that his front legs splay outward, much like a seal, endeared him to us even more.  He was lanky and clumsy and adorable. It was love at first sight.

We brought him home and he was an instant fit for our family, smart, quiet, obedient and friendly.  And so gentle he once carried a squealing baby rabbit inside his mouth from one side of the yard to the other, then gently deposited its saliva-covered body at our feet, unharmed. 

He’s been known as Bucky for the second half of his life, we will always wonder what he answered to during his early years and how it is that we got so lucky to have him. 

 

We do know he’s a creature of habit.  He knows mealtime like clockwork, both his and ours.  When we sit down to dinner, he perches under the table on high alert for crumbs, spilled milk, or any random tidbit he can scavenge.  Just the other day he was able to sample the crust of Jake’s grilled chocolate cheese sandwich.  We had experimented with the concoction, giving the old favorite a twist using thick slices of sweet fudge-like chocolate cheese.  As crazy as it sounds, Jake deemed our experiment delicious, and said, “Wow who ever heard of chocolate cheese! What are they gonna think of next, tomato flavored cotton candy?”

We laughed and figured it was actually possible in this world where it seems nothing is impossible anymore.

But tonight, I know the reality is, everything really is not possible.  Our old friend’s time shared with us is winding down.  His spirit may be as young as the day he came to live here, and his will to please and play is still as strong as a puppy’s, but his body just can’t keep up.

Of course we aren’t alone.  So many others are saying good-bye to their own fragile friends just like I am tonight.  We all see the signs. We slow the walks, fight the arthritis, guide the blind, dish up special food, direct the confused, itch the now unreachable favorite spot, and tell them every night what a good dog they are. 


Another family we know was also watching their dog grow older.  Their daughter said of their dog, “Mom, he isn’t old, he’s just wearing old pajamas.”

     

I like that.  I think Bucky’s in his old pajamas here beside me tonight, sweet and quiet, and I wonder if he is also thinking back to our long walks, stopping at his favorite tree in the fall so he could enjoy an apple along the way, visits to the dog park, putting up with the cat preening him, chasing squirrels, and sneaking away on his own for secret jaunts around the neighborhood. 

Saying good-bye is not easy. That’s why the only thing I’m doing tonight is hanging out with my best friend one more time.