by Marci Weber
We brought our 6 week old golden retriever pup home Thanksgiving of 1989. What a smart dog he was. He was housebroken so quick. He knew if he went to the door we would let him out. We thought he was so smart, little did we know he just wanted to go out in the fresh air. It took us months and 3000 walks to the door to figure it out. And he loved to go in the bathroom and close the door behind him. We figured he liked the cool tile floor. The only problem was that he layed up against the door and we couldn't get it open to get him out. Took us years to figure out that we should just keep the door closed. He used to bound up and down the stairs constantly. At night it sounded like a herd of elephants. Took us many years and disturbed nights of sleep to figure out to put up a baby gate. Halloween was his favorite. We would dress him up and take him trick or treating. He even carried his own bag. It was treats galore when we would get home. He loved to swim in the bay and body surf in the ocean. We took him everywhere, he was always invited. He made a TV commercial, he was our shining star. He played with the young and sat quietly by the old. But as the years went on age started to take it's toll on Buddy. He would no longer run or swim. He suddenly seemed to not hear us when we called. But he still wagged his tail, ate his food and tried to eat everyone else's too. And then the devastation hit, Buddy had nasal cancer. No cure, no surgery, only 2-5 months to live. So we did our best to take care of him and he still wagged that tail and ate his food. 7 months later, Buddy no longer wagged his tail, no longer ate his food and struggled to breathe. My heart was broken but I knew I needed to give him one last gift. And that was the gift of sending him to heaven. And now he runs and swims and wags that tail. We had 13 wonderful years with him and he will be always in our hearts. We miss him terribly but know that he is thankful for that last gift.