Buddy Bear ThomasCrossed Rainbow Bridge October 9, 2008
Our first family pet, a bichon whom we named Boo, came to us as a 9-week-old puppy in July of 2003. He was a typical puppy full of energy -- more energy than we could deal with on most days. Our dog groomer, a veteran dog owner, suggested that we get another dog, a mature one, one that wouldn't put up with Boo's puppy antics , and would teach him how to behave.
We really wanted another bichon, and were excited to find an approximately 8-year old male named Buddy available through the Atlanta Pet Rescue website. We filled out an adoption application, passed the phone interview, and were told to be at their facility in Atlanta on Saturday -- but be there early, as the animals are adopted on a first-come, first-served basis.
We arrived two hours early on Saturday morning, and were pleased to be the first in line. If we didn't get to take this little guy home with us, it wasn't going to be because we didn't give it our best effort! The line grew behind us, and the foster owners began arriving with their charges, adding them to the wire kennel where all the dogs up for adoption were being penned. We actually didn't see Buddy first -- we smelled him. What a stench!!!! His foster mom (Donna) figured out who we were (because we had Boo with us) and had come up behind us in line. Buddy's foul breath preceded them. He was very aloof, totally not interested in us, and was indifferent to Boo. In to the wire kennel he went with the rest of the poochies. He didn't interact at all with the other dogs, but just sat off at the side, looking away from the commotion.
As we were waiting in line, a SUV pulled up to the curb and parked. A man and woman exited the vehicle along with FIVE bichons! Buddy's foster mom informed us that the couple were also there to adopt him. Our hopes were dashed, as we were told that APR really wanted to place him in a home without children because of abuse in the past. What a joyful moment it was when Donna came and handed his leash to us! After meeting our family, she knew our children wouldn't be abusive to Buddy.
We really wanted another bichon, and were excited to find an approximately 8-year old male named Buddy available through the Atlanta Pet Rescue website. We filled out an adoption application, passed the phone interview, and were told to be at their facility in Atlanta on Saturday -- but be there early, as the animals are adopted on a first-come, first-served basis.
We arrived two hours early on Saturday morning, and were pleased to be the first in line. If we didn't get to take this little guy home with us, it wasn't going to be because we didn't give it our best effort! The line grew behind us, and the foster owners began arriving with their charges, adding them to the wire kennel where all the dogs up for adoption were being penned. We actually didn't see Buddy first -- we smelled him. What a stench!!!! His foster mom (Donna) figured out who we were (because we had Boo with us) and had come up behind us in line. Buddy's foul breath preceded them. He was very aloof, totally not interested in us, and was indifferent to Boo. In to the wire kennel he went with the rest of the poochies. He didn't interact at all with the other dogs, but just sat off at the side, looking away from the commotion.
As we were waiting in line, a SUV pulled up to the curb and parked. A man and woman exited the vehicle along with FIVE bichons! Buddy's foster mom informed us that the couple were also there to adopt him. Our hopes were dashed, as we were told that APR really wanted to place him in a home without children because of abuse in the past. What a joyful moment it was when Donna came and handed his leash to us! After meeting our family, she knew our children wouldn't be abusive to Buddy.
April 10, 2004At APR after signing the papers making Buddy (in my arms) ours
In his new home after just a few daysIt quickly became apparent after we got home that day that Buddy had issues. After entering our house for the first time, he immediately ran underneath the kitchen table, and that's where he stayed. In the coming weeks, we learned that any affection we gave Buddy was going to be on his terms. We weren't completely surprised by his personality. Donna, his foster mom, told us that he was unusual. He was the tenth dog in her care, so things were a little crowded in her apartment. At night, she said that all the dogs would jump on her bed to sleep with her (can you imagine being in bed with 9 dogs?!!!) but Buddy would run and find a dark place in the closet by himself.
Buddy did have a calming effect on the pup. He took the posture of alpha dog and was quick to put Boo in his place, and Boo learned that there were boundaries with Buddy. Buddy eventually accepted Boo, and we would often find the two of them together doing their favorite activities -- watching out the window or sleeping.
I mentioned earlier about Buddy's stench the day we adopted him. We had some concerns about how well this dog was going to clean up. Groomed bichons are beautiful, white, fluffy dogs, and Buddy was none of these. His fur was dull and ratty, his paws and mouth area were stained a dark rust color, his teeth were rotting, and he was quite skinny. Our groomer did a great job on his first grooming in making him look like a bichon should, and as the weeks went by, he steadily gained weight. A trip to the vet to take care of some of those rotting teeth went a long way in alleviating Buddy's presence being sensed before he was seen.
And so life went on in the Thomas household along with their bichons Buddy and Boo.
And so life went on in the Thomas household along with their bichons Buddy and Boo.
Whatever Buddy's past held, it left him with some severe insecurities. He always had to be hiding under something. Here he is hiding under the lingerie chest in the master bedroom, while Boo tries to talk him out for some play time.
This picture most reflects Buddy's personality -- very serious. And worried. This little guy always seemed to be paranoid about something.
Looking like a sweet, little teddy bear after being groomed
During Buddy's life with us, he spent a lot of his time under the master bed. It was his place, and he became very nasty if anyone tried to coax him out. He was extremely stubborn. We had a professional trainer quit on us once because he couldn't do a thing with Buddy. The trainer was sure that he wouldn't have any problem being the boss and getting Buddy out from underneath the bed. Buddy won. The trainer quit.
When Buddy would want something, whether it be more affection, treats, or a morsel of people food, he would do what we affectionately dubbed "The Buddy Beg." He would raise up on his back paws and paw the air with his front paws. It was adorable! People in our household have been known to do The Buddy Beg to get something they want.
Silly dog! Always had to be under something, and always loved a warm cushy place to lay. He got the best of both worlds here by climbing under the pad in his bed.I think most dogs pick a person to bond with, and Buddy's choice was me. It was pretty creepy at first. He followed me EVERYWHERE. Every time I turned around, there were his little eyes peeping at me from whatever object he sought shelter under. About a year ago, his obsession with me began to become unhealthy. Up to this point, he had always been tolerant of the kids, but his behavior began to change. If one of them got near me, he would bark at them, and if they came to close, he would go after their feet. If they had been younger, we wouldn't have had a choice but to put him to sleep, but since they were older, they just knew to stay away from him, or if he was with me, I would just reach down and touch him with my hand, and he would leave them alone.
He also began to develop gastric problems because of his obsession with me. If he couldn't see me, he would become very distressed, which would affect his bodily functions, if you know what I mean. His sight and hearing deteriorated to the point that he didn't hear me when I called him, or hear me walk away when I left a room. I didn't think it possible, but his need to be with me increased to where he would frantically run around the house looking for me if I had somehow slipped from his sight. When he was put downstairs in the kennel when we were leaving the house, he would sit by the gate and wimper until I came back home. He was so pitiful. His condition had deteriorated so much when we were on vacation this past spring, that we actually formulated a plan for how we would get him back home if he passed while on the trip. In the past few months, he developed a condition where he would have episodes where it appeared that his lung and esophagus were closing off, and we thought he was going to suffocate. We thought the episodes may be anxiety induced, but then they began happening during the night while he was sleeping. Sometimes he would yelp out in pain even though he was still and no one was touching him. Sometimes he would cry when a harness was put on him or taken off. He was such a poor, pitiful, little dog.
So if Buddy was so old and frail, then why am I feeling so horrible for putting him to sleep? I cannot describe the guilt I feel! Tom was not home when I made the decision to take Buddy in to the vet. Buddy had a HORRIBLE, restless night Tuesday night, and laid on my bathroom floor shaking when I got up Wednesday morning. The thought crossed my mind that today might be the day that I might have to make a decision about Buddy's life. My heart was so heavy as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I was really wrestling in my heart with taking the life of this furry little creature who has been so close to me for the last several years. I sat down to read my Bible, and providentially, the Lord took me to Ecclesiastes. I read in Ecclesiastes chapter 3, "There is a time for everything . . . . . . A time to be born and a time to die . . . " Buddy certainly appeared miserable, but it didn't appear that death was imminent either. Oh, how I prayed that he would just curl up in a corner one day and not wake up! How can I make the decision to take his life away?!!! Then the Lord brought to my mind that he gave Adam dominion over the animals of the earth. We are free to kill them for food and clothing, and Proverbs 12:10 says, "A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal." I have cared for the needs of this animal in the senior years of his life, and his body is deteriorating to a point beyond which can be remedied. I felt a peace with the decision I was about to make, so Andrew, Sarah and I made our way to the vet's office.
As Buddy's closest human, I felt it my duty to stay with him until his last breath since I made the decision to end his life. It was not the peaceful ending that I imagined it would be, and I have been engulfed with guilt ever since. If it was the right decision, then why do I feel so miserable and regret what I did? My dear husband (who left on a trip yesterday morning and didn't find out until last night about the decision I made) has replayed the last year of Buddy's life with me, and assured me that we probably let him live longer than we should have. He was very proud of me for having the courage to do what I did, and said that after the night Buddy had Tuesday, he was going to put him to sleep when he got home from his trip. I know that my work load will be much lighter without Buddy, but my heart aches that he's gone. I know my feelings are purely selfish! I used to complain about how creepy his stalking me was, but now that those little eyes aren't constantly on me, I miss him so much! Sarah and I have cried and cried, and the boys have expressed that things aren't the same, and they miss him. Andrew commented that he is so used to hearing Buddy around the house that he keeps thinking he is still hearing him. For me, it is the absence of sound that is difficult. There are no little paw sounds on the stairs behind me. When I go to the basement, I do not hear his paws on the floor above me, scrambling to see where I've gone. There is no warning bark when someone comes in to my room. Boo and Baxter are a little confused why they can come in my room without being chased off by Buddy, but other than that, they don't appear to be aware of his absence.
The kids and I dug a grave for Buddy in the back yard and that is where he now rests. Time will go on and heal this raw wound that we all feel right now. I say that I will never get another pet, because saying good-bye is so painful, but I suppose I will change my mind someday.
Thank you for your devotion to me Buddy. Your little paw print is embedded in my heart forever!
He also began to develop gastric problems because of his obsession with me. If he couldn't see me, he would become very distressed, which would affect his bodily functions, if you know what I mean. His sight and hearing deteriorated to the point that he didn't hear me when I called him, or hear me walk away when I left a room. I didn't think it possible, but his need to be with me increased to where he would frantically run around the house looking for me if I had somehow slipped from his sight. When he was put downstairs in the kennel when we were leaving the house, he would sit by the gate and wimper until I came back home. He was so pitiful. His condition had deteriorated so much when we were on vacation this past spring, that we actually formulated a plan for how we would get him back home if he passed while on the trip. In the past few months, he developed a condition where he would have episodes where it appeared that his lung and esophagus were closing off, and we thought he was going to suffocate. We thought the episodes may be anxiety induced, but then they began happening during the night while he was sleeping. Sometimes he would yelp out in pain even though he was still and no one was touching him. Sometimes he would cry when a harness was put on him or taken off. He was such a poor, pitiful, little dog.
So if Buddy was so old and frail, then why am I feeling so horrible for putting him to sleep? I cannot describe the guilt I feel! Tom was not home when I made the decision to take Buddy in to the vet. Buddy had a HORRIBLE, restless night Tuesday night, and laid on my bathroom floor shaking when I got up Wednesday morning. The thought crossed my mind that today might be the day that I might have to make a decision about Buddy's life. My heart was so heavy as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I was really wrestling in my heart with taking the life of this furry little creature who has been so close to me for the last several years. I sat down to read my Bible, and providentially, the Lord took me to Ecclesiastes. I read in Ecclesiastes chapter 3, "There is a time for everything . . . . . . A time to be born and a time to die . . . " Buddy certainly appeared miserable, but it didn't appear that death was imminent either. Oh, how I prayed that he would just curl up in a corner one day and not wake up! How can I make the decision to take his life away?!!! Then the Lord brought to my mind that he gave Adam dominion over the animals of the earth. We are free to kill them for food and clothing, and Proverbs 12:10 says, "A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal." I have cared for the needs of this animal in the senior years of his life, and his body is deteriorating to a point beyond which can be remedied. I felt a peace with the decision I was about to make, so Andrew, Sarah and I made our way to the vet's office.
As Buddy's closest human, I felt it my duty to stay with him until his last breath since I made the decision to end his life. It was not the peaceful ending that I imagined it would be, and I have been engulfed with guilt ever since. If it was the right decision, then why do I feel so miserable and regret what I did? My dear husband (who left on a trip yesterday morning and didn't find out until last night about the decision I made) has replayed the last year of Buddy's life with me, and assured me that we probably let him live longer than we should have. He was very proud of me for having the courage to do what I did, and said that after the night Buddy had Tuesday, he was going to put him to sleep when he got home from his trip. I know that my work load will be much lighter without Buddy, but my heart aches that he's gone. I know my feelings are purely selfish! I used to complain about how creepy his stalking me was, but now that those little eyes aren't constantly on me, I miss him so much! Sarah and I have cried and cried, and the boys have expressed that things aren't the same, and they miss him. Andrew commented that he is so used to hearing Buddy around the house that he keeps thinking he is still hearing him. For me, it is the absence of sound that is difficult. There are no little paw sounds on the stairs behind me. When I go to the basement, I do not hear his paws on the floor above me, scrambling to see where I've gone. There is no warning bark when someone comes in to my room. Boo and Baxter are a little confused why they can come in my room without being chased off by Buddy, but other than that, they don't appear to be aware of his absence.
The kids and I dug a grave for Buddy in the back yard and that is where he now rests. Time will go on and heal this raw wound that we all feel right now. I say that I will never get another pet, because saying good-bye is so painful, but I suppose I will change my mind someday.
Thank you for your devotion to me Buddy. Your little paw print is embedded in my heart forever!
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