He seemed completely normal until the morning of May 3, when he woke up weak and lethargic. We hoisted him into the car for a trip to the vet, who reported he was bleeding internally from some previously undiscovered tumors. We’d hoped to say goodbye Saturday morning before having him “put to sleep,” as they say, but he didn’t make it through the night.
I’ve put off writing anything about him because I’m not much of a dog person and I didn‘t want to say anything that smacked of false sentiment. I liked Buddy’s gentle personality and I appreciated how much he loved the kids and vice versa. How could you not have a soft spot for a dog who, when we brought him home for the first time a few years ago — taking over from a family that couldn’t care for him anymore — allowed all four kids to lounge on him simultaneously like a giant bean bag chair?
We’ve all been missing Buddy in our own way. Here’s mine: Since he’s been gone I don’t think I’ve had more than one or two boiled egg whites, which up til May 3 was a daily staple in my diet.
I don’t think I’ve consciously given them up. But it just doesn’t seem the same to crack an egg and not hear Buddy stir, no matter where he’d been slumbering, to come over for his usual egg yolk treat.
On a practical level, it’s disorienting to not have a giant furry egg yolk receptical handy. I hate just throwing the boiled yolks away. I guess I could give them to Pesky, our grizzled, psychotic outdoor cat, but it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.