Today the world lost the best dog it has ever seen. The standard “loyal companion” does not even scratch the surface of what Buzz meant to me, my dad, my family, and everyone who loved him. Sure I’m biased, but Buzzy was the best behaved, most intelligent dog I have ever come into contact with in my life, and I was so lucky to call him mine. He had the sweetest disposition. My heart is broken knowing that he’s gone from our lives, but I’m happy he’s moved on to a new puppy adventure.
Home has never felt so far away as it did today. It crushes me that I wasn’t able to say bye to my pal in person, but I know it’s probably best that I didn’t see him in his condition. Grieving is a tough process, but it’s a uniquely difficult process with pets. I’m not exactly sure why that is, but I know that it’s true. Death sucks any way you spin it.
Buzz has been my friend since I was seven years old, and he always made me instantly happy. I have so many great memories from childhood that involved him and my dad. We’d play with him in the yard and watch him attack the sprinklers or bark at them, and revel at the fact that he could keep a full water balloon in his mouth without popping it.
For a long time it was just the three of us, which is another reason he meant so much to me. My dad adopted him from the shelter when he was a puppy, not long after my parents got divorced. My dad spent a lot of time alone when I was at my mom’s house, so it always brought me solace to know that he was never truly alone with Buzz around. Buzz was the most loyal of companions. It freaks me out how intuitive dogs are sometimes. I’m eternally thankful to him for keeping my dad company for so long.
*I know this all may sound crazy, but Buzz was a huge part of my life and I’ve never lost a pet like this, plus I have no coping skills other than writing (case in point: my crying fits at Chipotle and Baskin Robbins today)(maybe my other coping skill is eating…?) so I’m writing. This is for nobody other than myself, really.
Buzz was pretty darn old and we were lucky to have him as long as we did. He lived a very full life, even for a human. He got to go to the beach, to Yosemite, to the Stomping Grounds, and basically anywhere else that we went. He was a huge part of our family. He always stole the scene in our Christmas card pictures, try as I may have to be the center of attention. He slept with me on my bed for as long as he could hop up onto it, and I can’t tell you how many nights I lost sleep because he had made himself all too comfortable and left me no room to move around. He was worth it, though.
As is natural when a loved one passes, I’ve been thinking about him a lot today and remembering everything wonderful about him. Toward the end of his life he was probably panting more often than actually smiling, but he always had a huge grin on his face. He put up with Penny (my other dog, a nightmare) and showed her the ropes around our house, and he was never shy about volunteering his back for scratching. Or his belly.
I’m really sad about losing Buzz, but I knew it had to happen eventually. I dread the day that I go back home for the first time and realize he’s not there. It has to happen. It’s all a part of life. It’s just the shitty part.
I know all doggies go to heaven, but I bet Buzz has his own special place full of squirrels and Dad’s Saturday morning bacon.