to my dog

When I was a baby, my first word was "deedee." Like most first words, it was a bit of a nonsense word, but really just the first sound I was able to make and use to mean something. For me, deedee meant dog. If you know anything about me, it's unsurprising that the first thing I wanted to talk about was dogs. I love dogs so much. To me, they are absolutely perfect animals. I've spent my whole life with a family dog. First was Willy, the dog my parents had when I was born. Then came Buddy.

The day we brought Buddy home!

For some reason, I was obsessed with yellow labs. I was convinced this was the dog my family needed to get, and when Willy died, I was absolute that we need a lab. My parents found a breeder that church friends had recommended, and when went to meet her. The breeder was crazy and her house was an absolute nightmare, but her dogs were beautiful, and in April 2004 we went to pick up our new puppy. My parents told me I could could pick. One puppy hid in the corner and seemed terrified of the world. Two puppies kept fighting with one another. The last puppy walked over and started chewing on my shoelaces. He was the one. I named him Buddy.

Hanging with my best Bud in the backyard

Just like my obsession with yellow labs, I was convinced that Buddy was the best dog name. I know, I was quite unoriginal. But let me tell you, no dog will ever live up to this name as well as Buddy did. He was the friendliest dog in the world. He was a constant companion to my family, and he had a knack for knowing when you just need him to rest his head on your lap. He was there for me when my parents got divorced and it felt like my life was falling apart. He sat next to my mom when she and her siblings said goodbye to my grandfather on his death bed. He was always up for a long walk, and he absolutely adored going for a swim.

 

Two of Buddy's favorite things: my mom and the creek

Buddy had his quirks too. He couldn't go down a lot of stairs, which we always blamed on a depth perception problem. He always sat in strange positions with his hip popping out and one of his back legs displayed; my mom called this his "sexy leg." He would get randomly possessive of my mom, especially around strange men and start barking. Of course this protective nature was perfect when I went to college, and my mom lived alone. And of course, it often took him a minute to calm down and attempt to befriend the stranger.

from my senior photos photoshoot

Last year, Buddy's health started to slowly decline. His vim and vigor that had never faded in his old age was slowing down, and he had difficulty walking. We had a big scare with his health where my mom and I almost decided to put him down, but then he suddenly bounced back. I worked from home, my mom cancelled her trip, and we spent a long weekend together just the three of us. It was really beautiful. Then I returned to my apartment. My mom went to work and came to find Buddy had died. I came home immediately and spent the night grieving with my mom. The vet came and took Buddy's body away and it was one of the worst moments of my life. Buddy was an old dog and he wasn't doing well. I spent this last week on Earth with him. I don't have regrets about that but it was terribly sad all the same. For thirteen and a half years, this dog was one of my best friends and saying goodbye was terrible. I still miss him so much. My mom's house is so empty without him.

 I'm so sorry Buddy for always making you pose for the ~aesthetic~

Today is Buddy's birthday. He would have been fourteen which is ancient for a lab. I don't know why dogs have such a shorter life span than humans. It's a cruel twist of fate that they come into your lives, provide so much joy and comfort, and then leave you when you have so much time left. The past few years has seen a lot of grief in my life. I've said goodbye to many family members, my pseudo-godfather, and stood by friends as they grieved loved ones. It's been tremendously hard on me as I already grapple with depression to face so much death and dying. Buddy's death came as a sucker punch to me when I least expected it. A few weeks after his passing, I had a major panic attack and it felt like my life had slammed into rock bottom. I didn't even have a dog to comfort me.

The last photo I took of Buddy, 100/10 best dog ever

I'm still working on my grief and even more so on my depression. Life has been moving on regardless of my emotional state, and I'm watching friends who've lost so much completely thrive and succeed in their lives. It makes me so happy to know there's way to move past these hardships and there's light at the end of the tunnel. I know Buddy was just a dog, but he meant so much to me. I'm grateful to have had him as my pet, and I know every dog owner says this, but he was truly the best dog ever. Happy birthday to my Buddy, up somewhere in dog heaven with Willy, Max, Orla, and the other dogs I've loved so well in my life. Keep a look out for my other loved ones, and let them know how much my heart misses them too.