The story of Buddy

by Gloria Nickerson, Fayetteville, North Carolina

HE WAS TEN, and he had shown up in my garage one morning, hiding behind a 50 pound bag of chicken feed; wagging his tail, a little lost pup, somewhere around 10-12 weeks old. I put some food for him on the porch (I believe it was cat food) and left a note for my husband not to chase him off (or worse).

When I got home, he was still there, resting up after who knows what kind of adventure, and I made this promise - If he stays a week- we'll keep him. Of course he stayed! He was getting food and petted and shelter. The day after the decision was final, he didn't seem to be feeling so well. Actually, I had already had him to the vet (as a precautionary measure about a stray), but then he had a bad rash on his tummy and his nose was swelling!!

Come to find out, he had Rocky Mt. Spotted Fever, anemia, everything a little guy could get on an unexpected journey. About $300.00 later, he was ours! I remember visiting him in the hospital (our vet was very progressive) and he would try to chew the tape off that was holding his IV!

He became a hyperactive and welcome presence in my life. Just the kind of dog that went crazy every time you came home, or gave him food, like it was the most wonderfullest thing in the world, even if it happened every day.

When I had to go to Saudi, my friend Tracy boarded him with her big dogs and he learned how to "run with the big dogs!" This was after getting his butt chewed (literally) a few times by the Chessy Bay retrievers. My cousin drove all the way down from Boston, just to bring Buddy to my Aunt Marilyn's and Uncle John's house, cause we thought it was going to be a long war. He got spoiled terribly and learned to howl at the firehouse whistle.

After the Gulf War,we went to Boston and retrieved him (funny how humans can learn doggie things) and when he got home, he was so lonely. At the time (not my decision) he was allowed to occasionally visit the house, but had to eat and sleep in his kennel. He was so sad, the next time my husband went away, I went out and got him a little beagle dog friend. Ruby, she is still with me today (along with Muffet, the stray beagle.)

Ruby (AKC "Her Royal Highness, Princess Ruby of Rockfish") was not thrilled about being taken from the surging wave of little beagles in her pen - bit me once and cried all the way to my house. Then when she saw Buddy, her little tail perked up, even tho he was about 10 times her size, they became the best of friends and roommates. That first night, they tore up one of those burlap pillows filled with cedar shavings and styrofoam beads, emptied the water container in the dirt and had a general "Arrival party."

His was typical of the behavior that happy, healthy, country dogs demonstrate. Although, I felt badly about selling the house and having to move into a place with a fence, it probably kept him healthier longer. He didn't chase combines, or have to deal with the neighbors (now my landlord's Rottweiller - lost every time.) big bad running free dogs.

Of course, Buddy, and the Beagles had a love seat, full size sofa, and my bed to choose from every day. It appeared that was a suitable alternative for them than running free. And safer. Perhaps Budy's childhood diseases caught up with him. The vet was surprised the heavy antibiotic therapy never yellowed his teeth. Nothing seemed to stop him. Until he got old early. He has been such a source of friendship for me for a long time. He would ride in the truck, stay there while I was in the grocery store and share whatever treat I dug out of the bags on the way home. Lately, however, he was turning down crunchy cheese twists - a sign I noticed.

The beagles are out there in the yard learning how to take up for Buddy's absence. Let me go see what they are barking about!

Sincerely,