Missing Buddy the Wonder Dog

One of my last posts back in December was right before Christmas. It candidly detailed the struggles my family was having in choosing whether or not to operate on Buddy's, our family Golden, front left leg. It was an amputation surgery due to stage 1 bone cancer. And even after University of Illinois' Veterinarian Department reported Buddy as a good candidate for amputation surgery, our family all had reservations about it. The UofI reports coupled with the stories from friends' experience with dogs having only 3 legs, the decision was made to go through with the surgery. Even though my dad, mom, brother and I all were scared that the morning we took Buddy into the vet would be the last we would see him "healthy," none of us said anything to the others about our fears.

I wish we had.

Buddy died the Saturday, basically a week, before Christmas.

Buddy came out of the surgery as well as expected for a 107 lb dog to. He was groggy, uncomfortable, scared and crying. But he seemed to be as any other dog before him that had this type of surgery. Aunt Doctor Becky (ADB) asked us to stay away from the vet clinic that Friday of his surgery, because she wanted to keep his blood pressure/heart rate as steady and low as possible. However, she did say we could come that next morning to see him.

Saturday morning hit, and my dad was anxious to get us all over to see Buddy. We rushed to get our warm clothes on and got to the vet around 8:30am. Buddy was lying in his recovery pin with only three legs. It was definitely a shock to see him, but I have to say that I was expecting a horrible wound that would have been bleeding profusely. Instead, there was a clean, white gauze bandage wrapped all around his front shoulder and just a hint of stitches where the top of the surgical cut was.

Buddy laid on the floor with a morphine drip to ease his pain. Doped up or not, he knew we were there and started whimpering when he saw us. ADB suggested that we speak calmly to him and make sure to give him pets and kisses. Each of us took turns, Dad-Mom-Me-Rob-Me-Dad-Mom-Me-Rob-Dad-Me-Mom-Dad-Rob-Dad to cover Buddy in as much love and positivity as we could to help him start his healing process. Earlier, Buddy had been able to get help onto his 3 legs and out to go potty with the assistance of ADB and one of the vet techs. ADB tried to help Buddy onto his legs to show us how he was progressing, but Buddy struggled in pain and confusion. My mom sucked in a quick gasp of air. I looked over to see her sea green eyes start filling with tears of fear.

I've never told my family, but when I saw Buddy struggle that morning, my heart sunk with pessimism that we would lose him instead of see him recover. Still, I prayed and prayed that our Golden Angel, Buddy, would be ok.

Saturday evening at about 10:15pm, Buddy passed away. His red cell count had dropped by 24% within an hour, but ADB couldn't find any severe bleeding when they went back in to try and save him. Truth be told, we believe Buddy's pain was too severe for him to handle, his heart couldn't take it, his fear was inconsolable and the anesthesia made him sick.

Amputation may be right in a black and white sense in that it takes away cancer. But it truly can be seen as a selfish decision. We do it to keep the dog with us instead of really thinking about the quality of life that dog would have. We didn't stop to think whether or not Buddy would really want that. He was like a little boy who never really understood the big and scary things around him. We did the surgery to make us feel as though we had done everything to keep him with us.


I haven't written about Buddy's passing because I still cry every time I think about the end result of that surgery. I cry at remembering the look on my dad's face when he rushed into my room screaming for me to move my car so that he could get to the vet. Not being able to understand him, I asked "What?" and watched him break down in sobs. I cry at the fact that ADB called my dad that Saturday afternoon crying and urging him to get back to the vet office as quickly as possible because Buddy was leaving us. I cry at never being able to forget the sobs coming from my dad on the car ride to the vet as he cried "I've killed my dog...I've killed my dog."

I cry that our best friend didn't get to see that Christmas and run with his brothers in the snow just one last time. Or the fact that Buddy was probably so confused why we would have done that to him. Or the fact that our once perfect Golden passed with one of his legs missing. Or the fact that I'll never be able to come home to visit my family and see him waiting with a toy in his mouth and his Golden plumed tail wagging in greeting.

I wouldn't wish bone cancer on any pet. It is the worst cancer to have to decide treatment for. All the treatments suck balls. We had 3 options:
1. Manage the pain through medicine, which only lets the cancer grow, causing extreme pain and suffering.
2. Cancer/Tumor Removal surgery, which removes the "infected" area but leaves only a minute chance of Buddy living past three years without it coming back.
3. Amputation

There's no right choice. Every choice has to come from the respective family. Our family's initial reaction was to not do the amputation. But we were hopeful and chose the option that would have ridden his body of all the cancer to ensure it never came back.

If you ever have to make this choice, I cannot stress enough the most important step-make sure you are completely comfortable with your vet and staff. Without a doubt, we are incredibly and immensely blessed with the staff at Northgate Pet Clinic in Decatur, IL. This clinic is truly THE BEST in that town (Sorry everyone else, but the truth is cruel).

Northgate treated Buddy like their own, and ADB was part of Buddy's extended family...don't forget that Winston is Buddy's uncle (even though he's younger) and ADB is Winston's mom. During those seven hours when we fought to keep Buddy alive, Northgate attempted everything short of trying to reverse time to save him. I don't know of any other clinic that would have had the dedication and quick thinking to do some of the things the staff did. They wanted him to stay as much as we did, because he was one of their favorites (Sorry all the other pet parents, don't be jealous. No puppy can be like the Buddy dog).

I did learn one lesson out of this loss-I will never choose amputation.

Our family didn't have the Christmas spirit after losing Buddy. We all cried for a week, off and on. My mom missed her daily snuggle fest with Buddy--something that started when Buddy was a wee babe. Buddy would find time in every afternoon to cuddle up with Mommy for nap time, just like a four year old would. The grieving got easier and our family was inundated with food, cards, memorials, José (for margaritas of course!) and loving stories. It really showed how many people were touched by Buddy.

Kaiser, Buddy's German shepherd brother, was and still is in mourning over the loss of his best friend. He wouldn't eat for a week straight, and he had tear marks down both sides of his eyes/nose. Kaiser didn't move from the front door for three days straight in hopes his friend would be walking up the sidewalk to reunite with him. Still, now a month later, Kaiser isn't 100% back to his normal self. Well, that is if we could even call Kaiser normal. However, he is starting to eat and start playing with Cody.

Any person who thinks dogs don't feel or build relationships is on crack and should never EVER have a pet...other than a fish or a bird.

Since Christmas, I hadn't really cried about Buddy. Until this past Monday, and I have cried each night since...including as we speak. Most of my family and friends know that I believe in the Power above, and as a result, I pray. Whether it's in the morning as I prepare for the day ahead, during the day when work sucks, gasping through a workout when I feel like I'm about to pass out or at night in a traditional manner, I find time to reflect and pray. Each time I get to praying about Buddy, I BREAK DOWN! It's crazy.

Last night, I told God to make sure that if he was going to take Buddy from us to make sure he's getting long walks and not too many cookies because my mom and dad had worked so hard to get him down to a "respectable" Golden weight. I think I told Him, "We don't want him fat again, now do we?" Haha! Seriously? Have I lost my mind???

I don't think my family will ever get over Buddy. We were so lucky that we were his family. Absolutely no other dog had Buddy's personality. I mean, what other dog have you heard played practical jokes on his family and four-legged siblings? For instance, when Mom and Dad put him on his diet, Buddy would have to eat his gross diet food alone in the laundry room so he wouldn't steal Kaiser or Cody's food. One day, Buddy planned his rebellion. He ate his dinner, which only took three seconds as he swallowed instead of chewed his food, and started running toward the front door barking. That caused Kaiser and Cody to follow suit. Well, Buddy only got six feet before turning around and heading to the other two food bowls. When K & C returned to finish eating, Buddy stood over the last bite of Kaiser's food chewing eagerly at the stolen morsels. He was genius, cunning and hilarious. What else is there to say?

He will always be our supersized Golden boy with the most perfect Golden tale and incurable stink foot disease (thank you Dad). He'll always be the best cuddle bunny and friend who ate anything if it smelled slightly edible. Buddy will always be the most perfect puppy with velveteen ears the softest I've ever felt. And we'll love and miss him until we see him again...

Buddy the Wonder Dog

Seven years ago on Father's Day, our family surprised my dad with a golden retriever puppy. Years earlier, Bandit, my dog, had passed after surgery to remove a fatty tumor from his rib/stomach area. When Bandit died, it came as a complete shock to our vet as well as us. Bandit had come out of surgery happy, eating, drinking, going potty, jumping and playing like he normally did. An hour after the vet tech had taken him out, she came back to the recovery room and found him on the ground without a pulse. We later were told there seemed to be bone marrow that had made its way into Bandit's blood stream and stopped his heart...something that can happen without vets knowing until it's too late.

Being that Bandit was my dog, I was completely ballistic; however, my dad took the loss hard as well. You see, with my brother off to college, Bandit was the other "man in the house." My brother's dog, Abby, was not the right personality fit for my dad; he couldn't bond with her like he did with Bandit. Abby was not a cookie that you could readily enjoy with milk!

Father's Day, a day to celebrate your father, should show your thankfulness in all he does for you and family. So, my mom's idea was to get him the perfect gift-one to make him happy.

That's when we heard about Sievers Retrievers in Meppen, Illinois. A local Decaturan had gotten a black lab from them and loved their pooch. My mom found their website and showed me the litter that appeared to be around Father's Day. The Goldens were beautiful, but they definitely were larger than a normal standard.

My dad always said that his next dog would be a Golden because "Bandit's personality matched a Golden's unconditional love and eternal happiness." SIDE NOTE: Bandit, the thief of our hearts, was a pound puppy of a golden/GSD/collie mix, and was the best dog ever.

Our family had only adopted our animals from the county shelter, and my dad was becoming active in the county animal shelter board as a volunteer and later its President. So, we wondered if there would be any push back from my dad. When Father's Day approached, my mom broke the news that we didn't have a present physically there. Of course my dad didn't show any disappointment and stated he didn't need anything. That's when we told him about the puppy. He got so excited and was like a little kid waiting for the appointment to meet the Siever family. The time came to make the trip...

Meppen is about 3 hours from our house, and we passed a lot of fruit stands that I wanted to visit (ORGANIC PEACHES!!!); however, our mission was clear--To see if the Golden we were visiting could be a part of the Ewers family. We finally arrived to Roger & Michelle Siever's home and drove up the gravel dirt driveway. My mom, dad and I got out of the car to see Roger walking through the dust cloud holding a pouting Golden puppy who looked like he had just been woken up from a nap.

This Golden puppy looked up at us with his brown eyes, black shiny nose and arms crossed...and we fell in love. He had a ridge of hair that ran from between his eyes straight down his nose. His coat was blondy-blonde. Beautiful, soft. And he had ears as soft as velvet.

We asked Roger why no one had wanted this puppy, but he couldn't give us a straight answer. Was it because the ridge of hair was seen as a "fault" by breeding standards? Was it the fact that he already weighed 11+ pounds at eight weeks old? Or, indeed, was it that Roger was hoping to could keep this blonde puppy because he had fallen in love with him too??? If you ask me, I think guess 3 is the answer why he was the last pup standing.

Roger took us into their house to meet Michelle and their children. Roger said to us, "The dogs aren't allowed in our house (as he carried Buddy inside with us). They have their own house and huge acres of land to run on." Michelle was a sweet lady who started feeding the puppy cheese and said "This little one absolutely LOVES cheese. We'll give you a slice on the ride home if he gets antsy. Food always calms puppies down. A lil treat!" She fed the pup a little piece of cheese, which made him smile and wiggle with joy.

We took the puppy home that day, and my dad named him Buddy. We drove home, with my dad in the back seat holding Buddy. An hour into the drive home, we stopped to let Buddy potty. Buddy ran to the grass. In an excitedly cheery tone, my mom said "Good boy, Buddy!" Hearing my mom so happy made Buddy's eyes light up, and he ran right over to her, doing his puppy pride dance around her feet. Seriously adorable! Back in the car for the other 2 hours, and my dad gave Buddy some of the cheese Michelle had given them. A half hour after that, Buddy barfed up cheese, water and puppy food ALL OVER my dad. Needless to say, it was both hilarious and stinky!

The past 7 years have been happy, loving and joyful. Buddy has been a saving grace to my dad when he felt there was no one at home to talk to, his job pissed him off and my dad needed a calming presence. Work would stress my dad, and he would come home cussing. Intuitively, Buddy would realize "Hey, Dad's freaking out AND HIS FACE IS TURNING RED!!!" So, every time Buddy hears my dad using certain words (SHIT, DAMMIT!) he runs up jumping up and down as if to say "Call the heck down or you'll have a heart attack, Dad!"



Buddy now has 2 adopted (shelter) brothers, Kaiser and Cody. Kaiser was adopted from the animal shelter on a cold, rainy February day. An animal control agent called my dad when a long-haired German Shepherd was relinquished by its owners. My parents had been looking for a possible companion for Buddy since Abby (my brother's dog) had passed. My mom really wanted a shepherd, because she had been around them through her childhood and believes them to be one of the best dogs ever! When they saw Kaiser, his self esteem beaten down and shivering from fear, they knew he needed a loving home. Ours would be perfect. Cody was another owner surrender who came in when he was about 3-4 years old. Apparently, his "destructive" behavior was too much for his family to handle. I mean, Cody's torn some things up but not too terrible. We found out he was a Flat Coat Retriver, a breed I'd never heard of. They're basically a black Golden! SUPER CUTE & FLUFFY!!! Buddy loves his brothers...and they love him. They can't do anything without the others.



My dad and "The Boys" (along with our cat Figaro...who wants/thinks he's a dog) form a pack. The Boys look out for my parents, especially Dad, and offer a heartwarming comfort.

Back in college, I took one of my creative writing courses and told my dad I wanted to start writing children's books with Buddy as the main character. The series being called "Buddy the Wonder Dog." Buddy seemed to escape every bout of sickness or injury...like when he would eat HANDFULS of mulch without it tearing up his stomach or eating the chocolate chip cookies left on the counter without puking. That was until recently....



A week or two before Thanksgiving, Buddy was taken in for a hard mass on his shoulder. You should know our vet, who we lovingly call Aunt Doctor Becky (ADB), has a Siever's Golden after she saw us with Buddy. Her dog, Winston, is Buddy's uncle!!! ADB took x-rays and couldn't find anything--so she and my parents thought it might have been a sprained shoulder. When it didn't get better, my parents took Buddy back in for a biopsy. That's when ADB discovered that our Golden boy, Buddy, has Stage 1 bone cancer. Today, he went to have additional tests run at the University of Illinois' Veterinary Medicine building. We are blessed to have one of the top 3 vet schools within an hour drive. Because of the tumor already growing deep into the bone and tissue, the recommendation was to have the leg amputated. My parents think the surgery will be tomorrow or Thursday, but it was a hard decision for my dad to make. ADB is an alumi of UofI Vet, and my parents have asked her to do the surgery as we trust her more than anyone with Buddy.

There's so much of the "unknown" for this choice. What will his quality of life be like? Will he be able to play, run, walk, swim and enjoy his life as he would have before? Will Buddy fully recover? Will he forever be in pain that he hides and can't tell us about? Or will he be a part of that small percentage of dogs that wake up from the surgery and cry in agony as they see their missing limb for the first time? In that small percentage, will he be one of the dogs that recoil from human touch because he is so self conscious and upset? What will his doggie self esteem be?

Will Buddy feel as though we did this to him on purpose and feel as though we don't love him? Will Kaiser and Cody accept him back after surgery?

Buddy is pure joy. All he wants is: food, pets, hugs, cuddles, Bite-n-Fight play, walks, swimming in the pool and sleepy time. Doesn't seem like so much compared to what I want...a magical cure for him that leaves him in-tact and out of pain.

I love Buddy the Wonder Dog. I can't wait to get home for Christmas and snuggle up with him and pet his velvet ears. His first Christmas in 7 years that he won't be able to play in the snow....wonder if mom will let us build a snowman INSIDE for him! Hmmm....