Sunday, November 16, 2008

Buddy

Buddy was born “Midniteincounter” on March 22, 1994. He ran only 24 races over a three-year period, all at Pueblo Greyhound Park in Colorado. He came to us in October of 1999 and we were fortunate to have him with us for nearly seven years.

Buddy was not a flashy hound. He was not a boy who caught your eye because of his beautiful coat or remarkable countenance. He was black and male, a combination that anyone who does rescue work will tell you substantially decreased the likelihood he would ever be chosen as a pet. But when our adoption rep asked if we had specific requirements for our next hound, we asked her to “just bring us one who needs a home” and we were gifted with Buddy.

He was such a gentle spirit, timid and unassuming, with a heart of gold, a sparkle in his eyes, half a tail, and a list of devoted fans longer than your arm. He truly loved meet’n greets, parades and picnics where he was the ultimate ambassador for the breed. Many times we had new applicants ask for a greyhound “just like Buddy”. On walks, folks were always approaching us with, “Hi, Buddy”! It thrilled him when folks knew his name.

Buddy had quite a list of favorites. He loved going down to the ball field and chasing a softball, favoring “keep away” over “fetch” and he was delighted when we’d chase him. He loved to travel, especially if he could ride with his head out the window, ears flying. He loved football season. I suspect it was because Brent spent so much time in the family room with him but Brent swears Buddy watched the game and loved the Packers. Either way, there can be no doubt that his favorite thing about Monday Night Football was pizza. Buddy would fly up the stairs to greet the deliveryman before the doorbell even rang and wouldn’t take his eyes off the pizza until he got his share.

Buddy crossed over the Rainbow Bridge on April 28, 2006. His departure left a palpable hole in our lives. He’d been with us when all our kids were still small. He’d loved my mother, and our son, both of whom preceded him in death. He’d been a brother to every greyhound we’d ever owned. He’d been a part of so many good times and he is the dog we still mention most often. He is the reason we specifically asked for Arlo, the black boy we have now, and the reason we will always have a black male greyhound in our family.

Buddy visited our new home with us while it was being built but he didn’t survive to make the move with us. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because he knew there is no pizza delivery here.

1 comment:

Joni at Hot Cha said...

I was aBuddy fan. I met him in the small break in my adult life that I did not have a greyhound of my own. He fanned the spark taht quickly brought me another perfect dog.