Good ole Buck

This morning at the dog park, I whistled for Rocket and he actually came running over to me, wagging his tail. It was a really sweet moment and one that indicates a deepening bond between us.

The timing of it was perfect. It was four years ago today that I had to say goodbye to my last dog, Buck.

Here's a picture of him. I'm also incuding a little something I wrote about him after he died. I e-mailed it to a few friends, but I enjoyed writing it and all the memories it helped bring up.

He was the laziest dog who ever lived, and he never chased a ball in his life.

He'd growl if I woke him up too early and curl up in the warm spot as soon as I got out of bed.

He'd bark at people he knew and ignore complete strangers. He'd cry when I'd to the bathroom unless I left the door open.

He never came to the front door when I came home. Instead, I'd have to go prowling around the house looking for him. He'd usually be sleeping on my
bed with his head on the pillow.

He liked to chase squirrels, but never caught one.

He rarely ate bones. Instead, he liked to carry them around in his mouth after dinner. It looked like he was smoking a cigar.

He once ate a pound of hamburger meat in 43 seconds. I timed him.

He was a hunting dog who would run and hide if i smacked a piece of bubble gum.

Once, when he was inside the house and wanted to be outside, he broke through a plate glass window. Another time, when he was in my car and wanted to be outside, he chewed through the convertible top.

He knocked down a friend's Christmas tree, and after much apologizing and careful reassembling, he knocked it down again an hour later.

One time I accidentally stepped on his tail. About 10 minutes later, he snuck up behind me and bit my butt. That's when I knew he had a sense of humor.

He'd been hit by a car and once jumped out of a car that was moving. He never did that again.

He wasn't the most affectionate dog. In all the time I knew him, he licked me maybe eight times. But when he did, I knew it really meant something.

He got lost once and turned up a day later six miles away. When I found him, tired and hungry, he crawled into my lap and cried. For days after, he'd look at me from across the room and start to cry again.


He walked without a leash and sometimes, he'd hop over a fence, poop in someone's backyards, and then jump back over the fence again. It  made me laugh to imagine what those people thought when they'd find it back there.

The times I had to leave him for more than a day, he'd sleep at the front door and wait for me

He could climb fences and trees, He enjoyed sitting on a branch like a bird and just wait for people to walk by and gawk at him.

A couple of times, he got too high and was afraid to come down, so I had to climb up after him and coax him down.

When he was young, he was shot in the chest as he tried to protect a group of autistic children from a group of thugs. I figured that after that, he deserved a lifetime of pampering, which is what I tried to provide.

His biggest joy in life, other than sleeping, eating and walking, was hanging out. At birthdays, I taught him to sing Happy Birthday with everybody else when the candles were being lit. He always sang the "too you" part with a big "roo roo."

He hated baths, but loved to splash around in  mud holes. At least twice a year, he would roll around in yucky stuff  -- god knows what it was -- he found in in the park. While dragging him into the bath after he did it once, I asked him if it was worth it. "Yes," he said. "Yes it was."

He was a handsome boy with silky red hair who once appeared in a syndicated comic strip.

I was young when I got him. The first day I had him, he followed me around the house and I remember thinking that there was no way I could deal with having a dog for the next ten years.

But 10 years came and went and then another seven. We grew middle aged together and then I watched as the red hair on his face started to turn gray. He was once the fastest dog in the park, but as the end came, he had trouble making it to the corner and back. He was nearly 18, which was longer than I had any right to expect. Each day was a gift.

Near the end, I thought that he was maybe hanging around on my account, so I told him that if he was ready to go, I'd be ready too. He looked me with his big sad eyes and and I knew it was time. So today, I said goodbye to him.

All I can do now is hope i did right by him.

So long Buck and thanks for everything. This house is really empty without you.