Memorial Day

Last year on memorial day my beloved 1st dog Buddy past away. It will be 1 full year on May 26th. It still feels like yesterday to me, and I find myself crying over Buddy often. I never expected Buddy to pass away at the age of twelve. All of our animals have always been well taken care of, and lived very long lives. Buddy surprised me. Buddy was diagnosed with a heart murmur, and as a dog groomer I had seen many dogs who had heart murmurs, who were perfectly fine. So I thought that it just meant Buddy would need to be checked more often by our vet, or be on medication. Instead, Buddy died when he could have been saved. OLD Trail vet, now Old Trail VCA animal hospital, in my eyes is responsible for what happened to my Buddy. Dr. Lucas diagnosed Buddy with a heart murmur, but failed to rate Buddy’s murmur. Two other veterinarians asked us why Dr. Lucas failed to rate Buddy’s murmur. I ask myself this too. The other vets told us if Buddy’s murmur had been taken care of when it was first caught by Dr. Lucas that Buddy could have been put on medication, and his life could have been saved. Buddy could have spent at least another year or maybe even 5 more with us. Who knows how long Buddy would have gone on to live with his family. I will never know, because Buddy died in my hands. I was the one to first see Buddy, my small black fur ball that everyone at Animal Rescue Inc fell in love with. I was a little kid, and he curled up in my lap while I was volunteering. Buddy stole my heart, and he became my first dog. Growing up Buddy was more like a sibling then a dog. But all of our pets have always been “family” not just disposable animals like some people believe animals are.
On memorial day I found Buddy around 11am laying on our back porch after he had wanted to go outside. I had decided to go outside and sit with him, and instead found Buddy laying by the back door. Buddy’s eyes were wide, his soft brown eyes were full of pain. This picture will never leave my memory, although I wish it would. Buddy started foaming from the mouth, he was suffocating. I held his head and cried for help. No one could help him. My childhood dog, my friend, My Buddy. He took his last breath while I held him, and Brad carried his lifeless body to our car. Brad and I took Buddy on his last car ride to the Emergency vet in York. The vet was so companionate, and we lay Buddy in a back room on a soft dog bed. I sat next to him and cried for at least a half hour until I finally had to leave him forever. I had Buddy cremated, and I picked up his ashes a few weeks after he passed away. And it felt so weird walking into that vet, and telling them I was there for Buddy‘s ashes. Every other time I had picked Buddy up from the vet, he came running out wagging his big furry black tail. Buddy would jump all over the place and wine from excitement. He also had this distinctive high pitched yappy dog type of bark. Instead that day at the vet, I was handed a small wooden box, wrapped in brown paper that had the name “Buddy Douglas”. My heart is still broken, and I don’t think I will ever get over losing my dog. And I don’t think a lot of people can understand why someone would be so upset over losing a dog. Because most say “it’s just a dog” right? Well, they aren’t just dogs, they aren’t just cats, they are just as good if not better then most people in this world. Honestly I haven’t met many dogs or cats that I have not liked, but I have met a shit load of people that I hate.

RIP my precious Buddy. I will never stop loving you, and you will never ever be forgotten.