Dogs are always on my mind. I'm sure with a blog name like I have, that isn't really a surprise. Lately, I've been giving them a lot more thought, really contemplating them. The ones I have, myself, and all the other ones I love, or hate (no, not really - I don't think I COULD hate a dog, though I will confess publicly to really intensely NEVER wanting to own a poodle. Ick.) I feel a slew of contemplative dog posts coming on, so if you're not a fan, you might want to just skip this blog for awhile. One who has been on my mind and in my heart a LOT lately is my neice's dog, Buddy.
This is Buddy, below. When my sister was in NC with my niece and I was sitting in the hospital with my dad, and we were texting back and forth frequently, I asked her to send me a picture of Buddy. I love this dog. I love his story, and I love my neice for keeping him, when the easiest thing in the world would have been to return him, and no one would have blamed her. He was a stray, picked up and taken to a shelter, and in foster care briefly, I think, before Meghan adopted him. She had a Sheltie named Chips when she was growing up, and always wanted another. Buddy looks to me like a mixture of Sheltie and either Border Collie or Australian Shepherd. Unfortunately, he's got some issues. Serious issues.
He has the worst case of separation anxiety I have EVER heard of in a dog.
Crate him, and leave, and he will rip the crate, his nose, his teeth, everything, apart, until he's bloody, to get out of the crate and find his people. Leave him uncrated, and he shreds curtains, furniture, walls, etc to find his people. Hook him outside and he shreds the door, and his paws bloody, to come back in to find his people. The dog makes my diagnosed and treated Panic Disorder look like a mild case of the flu.He has Anxiety, with a CAPITAL A. Maybe that's why I feel so drawn to him. Sympathy? Empathy? I have no idea. At the same time that I love and adore him, I also know that I would not have been able to live with his "disabilities." I don't believe, even with my intense "dog love" that I would have survived it. But God bless my niece - she has not given up on him, has not left a stone unturned in trying to help Buddy, and make all their lives more do-able. Together. Returning him, at this point, is not an option for her, and I'm grateful. Because I love Buddy so much, I know I'd HAVE to volunteer to take him, and I know I would be doubling my Paxil and feeding it to Buddy as well.
This was actually a picture she posted on her blog last week that has had me smiling ever since. I even printed it out and taped it to my desk so I can look at it and smile during the day. Her description that went with it: "Buddy, seen here as a burrito. He is one hot mess of a dog, but he has most definitely found a permanent spot in our hearts"
And in my own, Buddy boy.