A Long and Serious Post: Goodbye My Friend

I realize that the point of this website is to be a satire of the Houston sports scene, but today I’m going to disregard all three words in our tagline (Houston. Sports. Satire. it’s on our banner that you didn’t read, at the top of the page). So if you are one of the 5 people who came here to read something short, funny, and entertaining, I question what you think is funny and entertaining you can stop here and move to the next post.

I am sitting here today awaiting a phone call that I don’t want to receive, but I know is coming any minute. I can’t concentrate on what I need to get done today at “work,” but I realize that this is probably not a legitimate reason to take the rest of the day off. I am sick to my stomach, I couldn’t eat breakfast this morning, and I probably won’t eat lunch.

My best friend from childhood is about to pass away. I got a phone call about it this morning. I can’t imagine my life without him in it (no homo). He was always there for the worst and the best times, offering me anything I ever needed, a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, or just unbridled support for any decision I ever had to make. He was my biggest cheerleader.

I was told that he hasn’t been able to eat in 2 days, he is struggling to breathe, and he suffered a few bad falls last night. I mean, I guess I should have expected this day would come soon enough, he has become increasingly overweight through the years, and has lived to the ripe old age of 84.

Well, that’s 84 in dog years, or 12 for all you humans out there.  I got border collie puppy the summer before I started the 7th grade. We found an ad in the paper for some cheap puppies, that a family was just trying to get rid of, because they had 2 left. When we got there, the two puppies were put in the yard.

One was cute, calm, and cuddly and walked right up to us as if he wanted to be picked up and taken home, and my mom was instantly in love. Buddy, was hyper, getting into everything in the yard, dirty, and “had an ugly pink spot” on what was supposed to be an all black nose. That was MY dog, and much to my mom’s dismay she knew our personalities were too similar for me not to choose him.

On the ride home, he could not sit still. He hated the car. We also noticed that he was COVERED in fleas. So naturally, the first order of business when we got home was to give him a flea bath in the back yard, so the fleas didn’t spread to the other dogs.

After a 10 minute struggle to subdue a wet soapy 8 week old puppy, he was finally clean, and ready to check out the new pad. His first task was to check out our pool. He didn’t know why anyone would such a large water bowl, but it was July in San Antonio, and he was thirsty from the 100 degree heat. He ran right over to where the steps of the pool were and tried to lay down to get his tiny puppy head close enough to the water to get a drink. Except, the awkardness of the position caused the rest of his weight to drag him into the pool.

Once his head emerged from being completely submerged underwater, he swam over to the step and started barking at us, because the side of the pool was still too high for him to jump out on his own. Little did we know, he had learned his first “trick.” I think it took us about 3 days and 10 different instances of him “falling” in the pool for us to realize that he was doing this on purpose. There has hardly been one day since then, regardless of temperature, that Buddy has not jumped in the pool, at least once.

The next six months were the worst. He was the puppy from hell. He didn’t destroy the house because he wasn’t too much of a chewer, but he was a mean little shit. He would bite and growl, and hide then attack. He would get out in the front yard and run around the neighborhood like Reggie Bush through a college defense. He NEVER came when he was called. We almost returned him.

Finally, the day he turned exactly six months old, my mom let him inside after work, and he just jumped on the couch and went to sleep. We didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what happened in the backyard that day while we were gone, but something made him grow up that day.

From that point on, he was the best dog  we had and the smartest. He was extremely loyal, and possibly his only fault was being overprotective of the house. Running off was no longer a problem. In fact, there were many times he got out, and we couldn’t find him because he was laying on our front steps waiting for us to let him back in. He always minded our commands, and was deathly afraid of being called “bad.” For him, that was the worst. You would have thought he had just been kicked in the ribs.

Border Collies are herding dogs bred for their intelligence. If you have ever watched them work, the shepherd hardly has to make any commands because not only do the dogs know where to herd the sheep, but they have the decision making skills to anticipate and solve problems before the shepherd has to tell them how to solve it. This is where that sense of loyalty comes. They know they are responsible for that herd and if they make a bad decision they could lose a sheep.

This is also why he always seemed to understand everything you said. On top of all the obedience commands and “tricks” we taught him in the pool or with tennis balls and frisbees, he picked up numerous words on his own. Especially anything regarding food. He knew about 5 different ways to say cookie alone, as well as the proper spelling. You couldn’t even say it in our house with out him hearing it and appearing like Steve Smith.

So, I could probably spend another 5,000 words, just like I spent the last 1,000,  explaining to you why my dog is better than everyone else’s, but I will leave it at that. I will instead sit here and continue to wonder whether I will love anything as much as Buddy loved swimming, tennis balls, or cookies. If I will ever be as excited about anything as he was every time I came home to visit from college. And finally, if maybe I can learn something from his life, that maybe the secret to personal fulfillment is eating, sleeping on the couch, and playing with the ones you love.

And so my friend, although you are 1,000 miles away right now, I hope that your pain soon fades, and that you go quickly and quietly. I know that you are unable to read this, but since I cannot be there with you in person, this is the only opportunity I have to say goodbye.

Goodbye Buddy, You will be missed

Some more stuff to make you feel bad:

Simmons

TREAT ME KINDLY

Treat me kindly, my beloved friend,
For no heart in all the world is more
rateful for kindness than the loving
heart of me.

Do not break my spirit with a stick,
For though I should lick your hand
between blows, your patience and
understanding will more quickly
teach me the things you would
have me learn.

Speak to me often, For your voice is
the world’s sweetest music, as you must
know by the fierce wagging of my tail
when your footsteps fall upon my ears.

Please take me inside when it is cold
and wet, For I am a domesticated
animal, no longer accustomed to the
bitter elements. I ask no greater glory
than the privilege of sitting at your
feet beside the hearth.

Keep my pan filled with water, for I
cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.
Feed me clean food that I may stay well,
to romp and play and do your bidding,
to walk by your side, and stand ready,
willing and able to protect you with
my life, should your life be in danger.

And, my friend, when I am very old, and
I no longer enjoy good health, hearing
and good sight, do not make heroic
efforts to keep me going.

I am not having fun. Please see that my
trusting life is taken gently. I shall
leave this earth knowing with the last
breath I drew, that my fate was always
safest in your hand.

— By Beth Norman Harris 1968 —

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