Reflecting on an old Buddy's Passing: Two Years Later

Time passes. Memories remain, even if the physical being does not.

Two years flies fast

Two years ago at the beginning of October, my family and I took our old dog Buddy for his last ride. The short six-minute car trip to the vet seemed like it lasted only six seconds, which especially sucked, given the nature of the drive and the empty car we came home with after a trip to the crematory where we had our last sights of his lifeless body.

I remember coming home to the emptier house, and while Pixie (her younger compadre) was not fully aware of what happened, you have to sense that she knew something was not right when we came back and her brother wasn't with us. The first time we let her outside to go to the bathroom, Pixie looked back at the door, as she usually followed her hobbling brother down the stairs - antagonizing him all the way down, biting his back legs as if she were in the wild herding sheep.

But this time, her brother was no longer there. At that moment, I knew she knew something was missing and terribly wrong. It was at that moment, I balled my eyes out (well, for about the 30th time that day anyways, but the first time since we got home from putting the old boy down).

I feel awful that my sister, who was living in Tennessee at the time, was not able to say good-bye to him, although I felt a little better knowing that anytime she came to visit, in the event something like this were to happen, she told me she would say her goodbyes, just in case.

On this particular day, I was less than two weeks into my relationship with Jen. I was not aware at the time, but earlier in the week was the first and only time that Jen would get to meet the stinky dog - also happened to be the first time she met my mom and dad - thanks for sticking all that out Jen!

As the afternoon developed that day, I was wondering if I would stick with my original Saturday evening plan of meeting with Jen and her friends at the bar many of them like to go to right next to their work, as Saturday at 5pm begins their weekends. I don't remember if I justified it this way when I made my ultimate decision of spending the night over at Jen's old place, but I don't know how well I would have done with spending the night in my old basement dwellings that night without my best friend laying right next to the bed, waiting for me to get up so he could hobble up the stairs with me to officially start the day.

Ultimately, I was glad I did go out and try getting away from the two tons of weight that the day had put on my emotional back. I was able to meet some of Jen's friends for the first time. I do remember telling some of them that I wish I had met them on a better day than this and that I may not be myself, but I doubt I needed to explain that given what happened.

I forgot exactly where me and Jen went out to dinner that night (I know it was close to Belmont and Sheffield), but I know it felt good to share my emotions with my new love as my old love had passed. In a brand new relationship, a moment like this can go a long way in determining what the future holds. Sharing my thoughts and enjoying dinner with Jen was as perfect of an end to my night as there could be to such an imperfect day.

As far as the two years that have passed, I wish I could say I've had Buddy in mind every day - because I haven't. But every now and then, when I walk into my office area (or what was planned to be my office area) and see the wallet-sized pictures I have of Buddy and Pixie from when my mom got them professional pictures, I occasionally tear up and always smile when seeing how excited Buddy was for his picture (and how timid and frightened his normally eccentric sister was).

It has been a while since I looked at the blog I wrote for him 18 hours preceding his passing. For those of you who haven't read it or those who would like to read it again, here it is: http://b-boknows.blogspot.com/2011/10/some-buddy-to-love-eulogy-to-this-mans.html. The love me and my family had for him has never died. I'd like to think if anything, the love we had for him is reflected in new loves in our lives: Jen, my nephew Brayden, and anyone else who has joined our lives in the past 2 years.

As the years go by, I'll likely remember October 1st just as well as any other important day of my life, including a later date in October (the 24th was when we put the first dog in my life down when I was 13). The big difference between the two dogs was that I didn't think there was any way in hell of a dog impacting my life the way my old dog Crimmy did. Also, I have full memory of Buddy's entire life, while Crimmy preceded me by a few years.

In both cases, I will always have a fond memory of my childhood and young adulthood living the first 28 years of my life with these two dogs. As I have developed a strong relationship with Jen's two cats (who are now "our cats" in my eyes), I hope to continue to have pets make such a strong impact on my life as they already have.

Man's (New) Best Friend(s) or: How the Hell Did I Become a Cat Person?

This weekend a year ago sticks out as clear to me as a weekend possibly could. Putting down man's best friend is no easy task for anyone, especially when that pet has been a staple of your family for a 15 year period.

Buddy (RIP) and Pixie

After I got home from bowling last night, I came home to a sleeping g/f who had work in about 6 hours, so I figured I'd hop on my computer for a little bit and watch some baseball highlights on mute. I knew that this was the weekend we put the old man down, but it wasn't until this silence in the early morning hour of the night (I know that doesn't make sense, but not sure what to call 2am) when I started thinking about every little detail from last year.

Around that time last year, it was when I shared one last Miller Lite with Buddy. It felt awkward sharing that beer with him, when I knew of his fate the next day but he didn't. Naturally, these thoughts brought some tears to my eyes.

Bella sleeping next to me moments after my reflections of Bud

And wouldn't you know? One of my new pets Bella, inherited when I moved in with Jen in June, hops up next to me as I have these sad thoughts and falls asleep (albeit briefly) on a spiral notebook sitting next to me.

The unusual thing about these new pets is that they're not dogs, but rather of the feline persuasion. Yes - I am now a person who lives with cats. And the timing last year of meeting/dating Jen right around the time we put Buddy down couldn't have worked out better. I've always been a pet person. Correction - I've always been a dog person, having always had one in my parent's homes for the first 29 years of my life.

The cats sharing rare moment of peace and friendliness together

I knew that Pixie (unfairly portrayed in this story as 'the other dog') wouldn't be enough to fill the void that Buddy's companionship left in my life. While the two cats still cannot compare in my mind to a childhood dog, it's remarkable in my eyes that I'm even mentioning these cats in the same breath as my old dog.

Once you live with the cats for a while and see how these particular cats warm up to you (well, her male cat Tenders is a whore to everyone while Bella is very selective in her love of humans), it's hard not to fall in love with them. Collectively, they are as close to dogs as I've ever seen any cats be with the affection they've shown me as I've gotten to know them the past year.

If you want to see how much these new pets of mine mean to me, all you have to do is look at the pictures in my phone to figure it out. Even pictures of Lauren's cat Tigger are plentiful in the phone.

While the void of Buddy (and dogs at our new place in general) is impossible for me to replace, the transition into a guy who has cats couldn't have went any smoother.

I can now say that I love cats. Or at least these ones (and Tigger too, Lauren). To be honest, those are the only ones I need to love.

Stairway out of '11: The Year That Was

The year that was - it was 2011.
Some great things entered my life, some went to heaven.

Goodbye to my wonderful Grandma, a great woman to all.
Always around for us whenever we'd rise and fall.

So long to my Buddy of 15 years, man's best friend.
The old man was loyal until the very end.

For the loss I had, there was plenty of good in my life.
I had a great pair of friends who took the dive

Into a marriage that was as unique as themselves.
Definitely something to keep in my memory shelf.


My Niners are surprising, no Christmas coal.
I'm crossing my fingers for a Super Bowl.

There was the usual Vegas trip (ok, two).
At least I won (wait, I did lose).

What was unusual was activity in dating.
In the past I was left alone and debating

An online route to meet a great girl
After a two-month relationship, I entered the online dating world.

Met a pretty ginger who has been amazing.
Feeling like a kid who is star gazing.

It's nice to have another half to make things whole
Someone to compliment the heart and soul.

With these things in my life, I have much to love.
My family and friends continue to fit me like a glove.

It's fun to grow old around all these fools I know.
The theatre of life, there's always a great show.

The Mayans say that the world will end soon.
I'll take my chances that day and sleep till noon.

For 2011 exits, 2012 will begin.
And hopefully I'll be singing this happy tune all over again.

Some Buddy to Love: A Eulogy to This Man's Best Friend

It started with a kid and his puppy.

Rest in peace to my best friend, Buddy (1996-2011).

August 1996. The day after our annual family trip to Watersmeet, MI, our family decided to go to Archer Puppies, the place where my mom and dad bought our Golden Retriever which they named Crimson. She was in her waning years at this time - over 15 years old, so we decided to get a second dog that would eventually be her replacement.

The word "replacement" seemed laughable at the time. How could any dog replace Crimmy? She was there by my side when I was born in the UP of Michigan and was a loyal, loving dog throughout my life.

The dog we selected was the last of his litter. We wanted to get a similar dog to Crimson - a mutt with some retriever/lab qualities to it, and this dog stood out with his piercing green eyes.

Now, what to name him? A few names were tossed out - Chipper and Buddy were the finalists. We settled on Buddy - original, I know.

Any worries we had about Crimson and Buddy getting along were unwarranted, as the puppy kept out of the way of the queen for the most part. For the few months they co-existed, Buddy was still in his cage days as a pup. These days included a cliche coming to life. I left CCD homework on top of his cage, which he actually chewed - giving me the chance to legitimately use the excuse "My dog ate my homework."

When Crimson was put down in October of that year, we were all devastated. The dog that all of us grew up with was suddenly gone. I just knew that the connection I had with her would be impossible to match with the new pup.

Bud - Wiser: My High School Years

About as mean as he could look.

As he aged, so my love of the dog grew. I loved taking him for walks around the neighbor. My favorite spot was going to El Morro Park, where I'd go to talk to some girls from my class that worked there. Bringing the dog surely didn't help my chances with the girls, unfortunately. Nevertheless, our outdoor activities together as well as teaching him tricks (one of my favorites was catching the treat that was balanced on his big nose) made me happy to know that Buddy was a suitable replacement for Crimson.

Me and Spencer chillin' with a younger Buddy

College Days & the Introduction of Another Dog

Going to the University of Illinois in August of 2001 was the first time that I would go without having a dog around my living area. I knew that college would be tough enough dealing with the adjustments of a new living situation and tougher classes, among other thing. Living without a dog was definitely difficult to do.

Visits back home ensured me that my Buddy never forgot who I was. His cries could be heard and curly tail could be seen wagging furiously as I stepped out of the mini van after my parents picked me up from school. Those weekends spent at home were often spent hanging out with friends, but while at home, my best friend never left my side. It was always bittersweet saying good bye to him and the rest of the family as I left the house.

During my summer break of 2004, the time preceding what would be my senior year at UI, my sister wanted to get another puppy - a beagle mix that we named Pixie. If she did, my dad swore that she would have to take care of it - (editor's note: the next day, he was feeding her and picking up her crap. Dad Fail). I was skeptical of getting a new dog and remembered that one of the main reasons we got a second dog last time was because the older one was on its way out. I was not on board with the second dog idea, and neither was Buddy at first.

It didn't take long for Buddy and Pixie to become friends.

But after a little bit of time together, the dogs became compadres, with Pixie asserting herself as the clear Alpha dog. Soon after, the dogs got in the habit of cleaning each other's ears - a habit that continued into 2011. Buddy would lick her ears after a play fight that they'd have in the living room, while Pixie waited for her brother to be passed out on the floor to gnaw on his ears for 15-30 minutes at a time.

A common sight through their years together.

From the time before we got dog 2 to the time Pixie became an active presence in his life, Buddy's quality of life definitely improved. Each of them became dependent on the other, so much so that neither dog feels comfortable going outside to the bathroom without the other. Despite her occasional bitchiness to the old man, Pixie was a great addition to our household.

The Later Years

In the past couple years, there were a few instances where we wondered how much longer the Bolek's Best Friend was gonna make it. I'd be going on facebook and sharing my worries about his demise, only for him to tell me, "Buzz off, I'm great" with his eventual recovery from whatever the ailment at the time may have been. Hell, there were a lot of times where he'd be the one to initiate a fight with Pixie - putting a big smile on my face anytime he would try attacking her. He was a gentle giant with her though, so never were there any injuries from this ever.

Buddy at the end of one of our many poker games in the garage. He always wanted to be by people.
Don't worry - we drank those beers. He may have had a sip or two though.

The closest I thought we were to his demise was in June of 2010, when he had an inner ear problem (diagnosed as vestibular disease) that severely affected his balance. Luckily, the medication that we gave to him was able to curb his balance problem, and he was back to his old dog self.

With each walk I took him on, I always wondered if each walk that I would take with him around the block would be my last one with him. Luckily, this year, I was able to get his old legs to hobble around the block a few times in August as I was rehabbing from my back injury suffered in July.

In the past couple of months, his quality of life has been low. Many times, you could see him struggle with walking up and down stairs, collapsing occasionally while doing this in addition to some falls while just walking around the house.

The process of discussing putting him to sleep has often left me weeping. How could we put ourselves in this position of ending our dog's life?

It's never an easy decision for a family to make - and it's no different for us. Tears are coming out as I write this. I know it's for the best - as his quality of life was nil. He could barely walk and was starting to make waste in the house - something a functioning Buddy would not do.

Reflecting

I know it was the right choice. We were all waiting for a major sign like we did when Crimson was on her last legs. In her last week, she couldn't walk and had a huge tumor on her leg. I believe she was crapping in the house too. That choice was a lot easier for the family.

Always looked so happy.

Buddy could still walk, but do we want to keep watching him struggle mightily and collapse frequently as he navigated steps and could barely walk on flat ground without the chance of falling into a sitting or laying position? We couldn't keep doing that, so putting him down was the only logical option.

I never thought that Buddy could leave a legacy that could match (and in some ways, exceed) the dog before. But he did. He was always a happy dog, always loyal and always following me around. In the last couple years, he made a habit of sleeping next to my bed. He wouldn't even wake up for my dad anymore - just for when I'd roll out of bed to start my day.

Great picture taken by Lauren here.

In his last night with me, it was much of the same. Making it all the harder to do.

As I had imagined it in my head for years, I was able to share some Miller Lite with him (his favorite beer) the night before we put him down. He didn't finish the bowl, but he drank a decent portion of it.

I made sure to give him as loving of a last hug as I could - much like my sis's hug here.

I'll remember all of the walks we took, the treats I'd toss for him to catch, the tennis balls I would have him fetch (and oftentimes, the tennis balls that I ended up fetching after he got bored with it).

About thirty minutes before we brought him in, I decided that I needed one last walk around the block with him. I'm really, really, really glad I did.

He was always by my side, and he will be missed. It will be a tough thing to get through, but with the love and support of my family and friends, I know I'll be ok.

So it goes, it ended with a man and his dog.

The sun will always shine bright on this old guy.

The 5,529 days in-between, full of memories and great bonding experiences between man and dog, is an era of my life that I'll never forget.

Rest in peace, my stinky boy. You will be missed.