I Did Not Get To Say Goodbye   View This Page Fullscreen  Print This Page View the comments for this page  View the RSS Feed    Vote this page Up  Vote this page Down

I did not get to say goodbye.

It has been more than 2 years now since Buster left us.

 Buster, I did not get to say goodbye.

I am working on a fence mural, and on it there are local dogs, and two guide dogs puppies, as well as a section of the fence is in memory.

I have now added Buster to the fence. ( June 2016)

he is not quite finished yet, and he is definitely folk arty, but as he is, he is the Buster I remember.

 

you can read about the fence under announcement - Dogs of 6th an Devoy.

and here is the story about him written some time ago.

Buster, my neighbour’s dog. What a good old boy. They adopted him in his later years as his owner had died.


When I was without my dog for a while I looked after Buster often. And even when my dog was back, Buster would come to visit frequently and I would look after him when the neighbours went away. I was his second home. He would come to my front door, and that meant climbing up a few stairs. He would sit on the step and wait for me to notice he was there. When that did not work soon enough he would lift his paw and knock on the door. Yes really.

What a delightful boy.

He even went on a work trip with me and my dog . We stayed in a cottage on Vancouver Island and he came in to work with me every day, with my own dog. He was such a hit with everyone.

My dog any I were away, another time on a work contract. We left with the song birds on Tuesday morning and got back with the crows Thursday evening. We were having a little gathering a celebration, an anniversary (another story) and I invited my friend Buster.

I noticed the neighbours car was away on Saturday. Usually if they go away I look after Buster. Perhaps they were just out for the day, or if they had gone, perhaps they took him. But they did not usually.

They came back on Sunday afternoon. I noticed the car. But Buster did not come over.

On Monday, holiday Monday August 1, I had a very eerie feeling. I did not know what it was. But I had a feeling; I put it out of my mind.

Buster had not knocked on my door, and the kids next door had been out. He usually goes out whenever he gets the chance and comes to my door.

Around noon my neighbour came to the door.

I have something to tell you she said.

I knew what it was.

We both cried when she told me. Buster had taken a turn for the worst and she had to take him to the vet on Tuesday morning. She was alone, her husband at work. I would have been there if I had not taken the early ferry. But I was not.

She told me how difficult it was but that she knew she had no choice.

Buster had been diagnosed with a terminal illness over 9 months ago. He had been sick over and over again for weeks, but medication seems to stop it. He did not seem to be in discomfort that way. He was also very arthritic and had a lot of difficulty walking, but some days he was fine, could walk with me around the block, and he always could make it to my door.

He had been bravely fighting this, but on Monday night he was violently ill. There was nothing that could be done. The vet had not expected him to live this long, but I had thought he had been misdiagnosed as he did not seem sick.

I did not realize how attached I had become to my neighbours dog.

I was certainly no comfort for my friend who had lost her pet. All I could think of is that I would never see that lovely boy again.

I did not even get to say goodbye.

The attachments to dogs that we form, are sometimes a surprise to us. He was my neighbour’s dog, but I was his second home. I really think he enjoyed it here with us when his family was away. We had formed a bond I was not really aware of, until I knew he was gone. I will miss him so very very much, yet I will remember the good time and that I brought him comfort and he brought me companionship, and love. Yes, I really do think that a dog can love. This dog was very lucky as he had many people to love. He had his own family of four, and he had me and my dog, and anyone that crosses his path.

He loved many and was loved by them.

Goodbye my lovely Buster. I will always think of you. I will miss you coming to my door, hanging out with us, just being you, lovely old Buster.

Everyone that met you loved you. How could they not. 

I know there comes a time, and for Buster, this was his time. It is never easy for the owner who is the one to be with the dog when it crosses the bridge, yet this is the kindest act of all. The hardest thing we ever do for our dogs, yet the kindest. Anything else would be selfish. There is a time to let go, and for Buster, this was clearly the time for him.

 He is no longer in any pain, no longer putting on a brave face for his owner and for me. He is running free and happy with Jackson Brown, my neighbours other dog and all of the dogs I have known and loved who have crossed the rainbow bridge before.

Goodbye my friend.