We have always had big dogs. I’m talking German Shepherds, Bulldogs, Hounds, Labs. Dogs that could take off a limb if you crossed them. Our very first dog was a German Shepherd named Duke that weighed the same as Jilda. We had him for over 13 years and when he died, Jilda and I wept as if he were a child.
Buddy, belonged to my mother-in-law, Ruby and weighed about 15 pounds soaking wet. He was a yapper and I thought many times about smothering him with a pillow when we visited Ruby. He was hyper and obnoxious but Ruby loved Buddy and Buddy loved Ruby. As far as Ruby and Buddy were concerned, I could deal with him or get lost.
In September 2003 Rubyy was working in the yard when she broke her hip. The next six weeks she was in the hospital and rehab. Jilda and her sister Pat stayed by her side when she was in the hospital and that left me to take care of Buddy. I was not happy and neither was Buddy.
The first night I went to feed him and take him outside to take care of business.
He raced to where Ruby had fallen. He sat down on the spot where she laid until the paramedics rushed her to the hospital. I tried to coax him back in her house with food and treats, but he would not budge. He just sat there, and stared in the direction the ambulance had taken his momma.
I had to pick him up and carry him back into the house, growling and snarling and snapping the whole time. The next day when I returned it was the same story. I was his only human contact and he didn’t eat for days. Finally he began to eat a little and stopped biting me.
One Saturday about three weeks later when I was feeding him, I just sat down on the ground beside him. I had brought a Slim Jim and began to feed him tiny bites. Slowly he crawled up into my lap. We sat there for a long time and after a while, I walked over to my truck and said let’s go.
Buddy jumped in and never looked back.
Ruby eventually went home, but she knew things had changed. She told us we could keep Buddy but we had to bring him for a visit every day.
Buddy gained some weight; after all he ate at our house and at Ruby’s every day. As the years went by, he got calmer and loved to ride in my truck. He loved the Forks of the River as much as I do. When it was warm he always wanted the windows rolled down and enjoyed visiting old cemeteries and chasing squirrels.
Never I did I think I would love a small yappy dog, but Ol’ Buddy changed my mind.
