Archive for August, 2010

Good-Bye to His Dogness Part III

BLUE MOON


From STEVE M.:

Thank you for sharing Buster’s life with us over the years and allowing us to share in your loss. The older I get, the more thankful I am for the dogs that have trained me in becoming (I hope) a better human being. I can only aspire to their total and unconditional love; I can only hope to be even half as good a person as they seem to think I am.

No matter how bad my day at work has been, when I walk in the back door at the end of the day, I become an instant celebrity, worshiped and adored. It’s hard to be glum or blue amid wagging tails, slobbering jowls and barks of joy.

When you think about it, they teach us a lot about life, and I think part of that is because we watch them go through the whole life cycle – the whole aging process in 10 or 15 years. They teach us about the energy and joy of “puppydom,” the loyalty and devotion of maturity and, when they leave us, the inevitability of having to let them go. And letting them go is heartbreaking for us, but (and this has to be true, my friend) a welcome release for them and our final gift of love.

Our dog, Sadie, is a pit/pointer/something/something that we inherited from a daughter’s failed marriage (Sadie had helped raise our oldest granddaughter and we could not let her be taken away from the family). Anyhow, she’s become the canine love of my life.

She’s 10 now and her muzzle is getting gray, and she shows an occasional limp on her walks and doesn’t jump a lot anymore. And I know what’s coming. And when it happens, or is done, I will grieve just like I have several times in the past and swear that I will never get another dog, and, within a month or two there will be another yapping, joyous puppy in my life.

There always will be a dog in my life, Kim, because, you know what — my hair is now gray and I’m starting to limp sometimes and I don’t jump a lot anymore.

From CANDY W.:

My thoughts were with you this morning when I read your column about Buster. Over the years I came to know and love Buster through your columns and books. My heart goes out to you because I know what it’s like to thoroughly love a dog and then have to make a decision to put him to sleep.

Three years ago we had to make the same decision about our beloved dog, Lucky. He was 18 years old or thereabouts. We had gotten him at the pound, and the vet estimated he was about a year old at the time. So we loved and enjoyed him for 17 years, but, toward the end, it wasn’t much fun for Lucky, and we made the difficult decision. I still miss him terribly as he was “my” dog even though we got him for Alex. Alex named him Lucky because he said he was lucky to get out of the pound.

I loved what your stepson said about Buster. “I liked that I loved him.” I think that sums up how most people feel about their pets.

From LINDA D.:

I’m so sorry to hear Buster is gone. They just don’t stay around long enough!!

We’re dealing with a 14-year-old, just taking it a day at a time. Your article really resonated with me and is a great tribute to our bond with dogs. But, in the end, we can give our four legged friends the ultimate gift of mercy….I’ve always said “You’ve gotta love them enough to let them go”.

Thinking of you, there’s another Buster out there somewhere!

From KATHRYN F.:

As a dog lover, my heart goes out to you on the loss of Buster. Your article in the paper today is a wonderful tribute to a faithful companion. My prayers are with you and your family.

From SARAH M:

You have become a friend over the years through your column. You have my deepest sympathy over your loss of Buster. Isn’t it amazing how something so dear can just drop into you life and become almost as dear as life? God meant for you two to be together.

I had to put my Beagle, Roxie, down last year because of severe heart problems. I cried buckets! About four months later my daughter called and told me a friend had walked into her workplace trying to find a home for a Beagle-type dog named Roxie!!!!!

You can guess the rest!!

Since I am now 76 and she is rather young (not sure how young), we may be together for the rest of our lives. She is a Heinz 57 variety and beautiful, blond, very short legs, has a black tongue and loves me!!

It is mutual. I hope you can find another Buster.

From ANNA F:
Just read your article on Buster. I am at the same point with my little monster Hannah. I was lucky enough to come into the Humane Society the day after she arrived in 1995. At that time her age was estimated at 1 1/2. She has been a member of my home ever since. She has brought me joy and unconditional love but I will soon have to make the decision of what is best for her instead of my desire to keep her with me. She also suffers from dementia (standing in a single position as if she can’t remember why she came into the room), running into walls, wandering down the sidewalk to the neighbor’s patio. It is still such a joy to watch her on her good days. I will miss her when it is time to let her go.

I don’t really know why I’m writing this except to let you know there are a lot of us out here who feel the same as you. Thanks for saying what a lot of us can’t.

From ANN H.:

I just read your column about Buster, and I am just remembering you and him and thinking of my own connection to my beloved dog Vincent — 7 years old this summer. Now I understand how significant the relationship between a dog and a human being can be. I understand the feeling of coming home to a house empty of people but full of the energy of a warm, easygoing, trusting, unjudging companion. It is such a precious thing.

From KAREN F.:

I read your article in Monday’s paper about Buster. He sounds like he was a wonderful dog and companion! I wanted to give you my condolences and say I know exactly how you feel. I had to put my 12-year old husky down last August; he was like a son to me.

I am 40 years old, and didn’t marry until two years ago. Sergei (my dog’s name) was there for me in so many bad and lonely times and also experienced some of my adventures as well when nobody else was there to share them with me! (I moved to Florida to start my own marketing consulting and design company with no address and no idea where I would end up. It was just me and Sergei in the car and a moving van tagging along about a week behind us, waiting for an address to unload!)

I wanted to connect with you to share my newly formed 501c3, The Sergei Foundation; it helps those who feel exactly the way we did about our pets but who cannot afford (literally cannot afford, not that they just don’t want to pay on their credit card, etc.) to save them or give them treatment. I know how guilty I felt when I had to put Sergei down knowing I did everything for him along the way. I could only imagine how someone might feel if they were not as fortunate as I was to pay to save their “family member” like I did over the years.

Please take a look at our website: www.SergeiFoundation.org for more information.

Thank you, and I hope you find the joy you did with Buster in another canine companion soon. I was hesitant to get another dog thinking I would never feel the same. I saw a puppy with the same blue eyes as my husky and felt it was a sign to get him, and it was only 1 month after Sergei died. It has helped to heal my heart tremendously, although I will never, ever forget Sergei. I guess this foundation is my way to keep him alive in my heart and feel like I can help others who feel the same about their family dog.

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