Dog Lover Clip and the Tale of How We Got "Buddy"

If you are a dog-lover, then you will "get" this video, 

even if it means patiently waiting till the end it for it's message.

Okay, I was so busy today that I was convinced I had no time for blogging.

Then I saw this clip online and I suddenly knew I had to post something about it right away.  It's so close to our own experience with "Buddy" that I just had to write about it.

The truth is, what happens in the above clip is almost exactly what happened to me in my own life about three years ago.

The Tale of How We Got Buddy.


One day, while dropping my kids off at school I noticed a dog rushing frantically through busy traffic. He was shivering, and kind of limping and I had no idea who's dog he was.  Or if he was sick or injured, or what this animal's story was.  I was just driving by.  I had kids to drop off.  This was not the day I planned.


It was about 5 minutes before the elementary school bell was going to ring, and if you have kids, then you know what that means. It means: Do not dither, because you don't want your kid to have to walk up the front desk with a tardy pass.


So -- There was this dog.  Running in the road.  Under the wheels of pick up trucks.  The girls in the backseat screamed for me to look out...I pulled the van over.


 The dog was going around doing this "walking-running" thing where they're not really going anywhere, but they don't want to let on that. But, he was clearly really shaken. I jumped out the van to coax it closer so it wouldn't get hit by all the cars whizzing by.


I put my hands out.  Low.  Not threatening.   I said, "Hey, there. Come here."


The dog was pretending to be very involved in sniffing something in a circle on the curb while eyeing me.  He was shaking.  His back leg seemed injured.   He was running on adrenyline.  I kept my voice low, I didn't want him bolting under the truck wheels again, like we'd just watched him do so moments before.  People were slowing down and saying they were worried about him, too, but...funny thing, they kept driving.   I stayed.   Time was running out.


The dog was still there.   Really intent on sniffing something and eyeing me very carefully.


Then, all of a sudden, the dog just bolted by me and jumped into the front seat of my van and hunkered down.  He pressed his face into the seat back and became as "beige" as you've ever seen a pet try to be.  It was as if he were saying,  "Look, lady.  Don't ask. Just go with this. Take home. I'm yours."


And my girls still in the backseat were, naturally, overjoyed the dog got in the car.  But, I was worried and shocked. I didn't know a thing about this stupid dog. Maybe it's crazy.  Or sick, mean, or dangerous.  What did I know?


But, since the whole thing happened while I was still on the school property I easily got the kids to class, somehow, and then took the dog by the collar around the busy school grounds.


I kept asking if this was anyone's dog.


Apparently, it wasn't.


The school day was under way. All the mommy vans had vanished.


I had a black dog with a generic collar in my hands.


I did the unthinkable.


I let him get back in my van, where he apparently was very grateful to go, and I took him home.


I made a "Found" flier with his photo and all the correct info.

FOUND!

BLACK LAB   LABRADOR RETRIEVER

NO TAG/COLLAR

FOUND EARLY  8/21/06

ON FOSTER DRIVE NEAR W…. SCHOOL

IN ROSSMOOR

FOR MORE INFO

PLEASE CONTACT:

LARSEN: 714-666-7777

THIS DOG MISSES HIS OWNER

I made 50 copies of this flier (yes, 50, I should know, I paid for them.) and staple gunned them to every tree and telephone pole in the entire neighborhood.


I dropped off fliers at all the local animal shelters. Even ran an ad in a national pet finding service.


I ran ads in the newspapers.


But, all this time, the big, black dog was in our backyard.  And, within one day, our house.   It reminded my husband of "his childhood dog."  My kids begged me to keep it.  "We'll take care of it, Mommy!   Please???  Mom, please?????"


I was dubious.   No.   I was DUBIOUS.  Quite.   Our family has allergy issues.   Our personality is far more "cat person" than, "dog people." But, due to my daughters huge cat allergy, we'd resigned ourselves to goldfish.    Now, the goldfish were HUGE.  (Another story).


"I feed the huge freakin' goldfish.  I change their poopy water.   Don't even go there with me about a dog, now"  I'm thinking.


I'm thinking.   They're begging.   The dog isn't saying anything.   He's busy being, very, very, very good.  So, good.  Good as gold.  Heartbreakingly good.


The fliers remained up.


I could tell he was about two years old, very well behaved and had manners.


But, what he lacked was a name.


I knew he had to have a name, so I did what every really smart dog owner does these days, I turned to Google to find out what his name was.


I had to have a name for him fast, because if anything happened I needed to make sure he'd be able to respond to me.


I did a Google search: "Top 10 names for big black dogs."


Congo, Kenya
Midnight,
Ink, Inky
Kona (coffee)
Shadow
Voodoo
Buster
Sable
Shady
Cinder
Buddy


I started at the top of the list:


"Midnight?" No reaction. Dog lays down head on paws and eyes are watching my face. Dog wants to understand what I'm saying, but doesn't, yet.


"Kona?


Nope.


"Blackie?"


Dog sighs.  We both thank God, that wasn't his name.


"Buster?


Eyes flicker back to mine, but head is still resting on big front paws. He's sweetly confused, but hoping not to piss me off. I'm food.


"Buddy?"




-- BOING!


He leapt up! Sprang to attention. Ears cocked forward. Eyes wide open.


"Buddy???" I repeated. He jumped toward my hands to nuzzle them.


I tried to trick him by rattling off all sorts of names in a long stream of consciousness to see if he responded to any other sounding names. Nothing.


Then, I keep asking, "Is your name Mcdonalds?  Sam?  French fries?  Door knob? Utah?  Mom?  Dad? Steak?  Parker?  Shadow?  Is it...Buddy?"


YES! Jumps up. Happy dance. Dog stands up and is alert and ready to do whatever it is that apparently I've suddenly asked of him. He responds so rapidly to this name, I know it has to be the name.


I tell my girls, "If you ever need to know anything, the magic Google will tell you. It's just told us what this dog's name is."


"So, your name is Buddy." I tried to get used to this. I'd hoped he would be something a bit more creative, but, clearly, this dog's name was SO "Buddy" that it couldn't possibly anything else.


I waited to get a phone call from a flier. I frequented the shelters for "Lost dog" fliers there. Nothing. Nada.

Days ticked into weeks. On Week two we take him in to the vet. Find out he's very well kept, healthy, well behaved. Not chipped.


We got him microchipped. We got him shots.


It's been about three years since Buddy got into my van.


Buddy's stayed here the whole time.







I never thought I'd be a dog person, but turns out, I am. At least with this dog.


We love Buddy and sometimes I am still a bit fed up to be his only walker/feeder.  But, when I think of what he's given us all, I am filled with love and gratitude that he somehow knew my van's car seat would be "home" for him, forever.


And that's the story of how we got "Buddy."