We got Buckeye and his brother, Derby, from a terrific breeder here in Ohio (PS: We were young, didn’t know any better–and would *rescue* now!) . We’d “spent time” with them since they were still in the womb, visiting their pregnant mom, excitedly awaiting their arrival. When the day came for us to choose our new family members, we drove across town with an envelope full of cash in my husband’s back pocket. We knew we wanted two little boy pups, so we sat down in the grass with all the males and tried to pick our favorites.
Derby was an immediate choice–with his “perfect” markings, soulful eyes, and spunky personality–and we *thought* we wanted his “twin” from the litter, too. But another little somebody had other plans for us…
My husband, Chris, was holding the runt of the litter in his outstretched hand. The tiny guy was so cute, with the brown/black ring surrounding one of his eyes. He lay there happily snoring on his back. “He’s cute,” said Chris, “but maybe we want one with a little more–I don’t know–personality?” And–with that, as if on cue–the runt perked up, jumped to the ground, ran around behind Chris, and proceeded to pull the envelope of money from his back pocket. Buckeye had clearly CHOSEN US to be his family, and who are we to argue? So, he came home with us and Derby.
We were lucky enough to be Buckeye’s family for twelve years. He was a funny little man who helped us raise two Great Danes (we called him the Jedi Master–he ruled their lives!), and he loved everyone he met. Buckeye lived through a slipped disc and total paralysis (at age 5), and he spent seven more years chasing his ball and giving orders around the house. Just shy of his twelfth birthday, we found out Buckeye had a rare form of cancer. The surgeon removed a one-pound tumor (along with his spleen) from his little eleven-pound body. He came to work with me every day for months, while we did chemo and tried several other therapies; but Buckeye got to the point where he just wasn’t his funny little self anymore. We finally decided on November 1 of last year that it wasn’t fair to keep him around because we were too selfish to do the right thing, and we saw him to the Rainbow Bridge. Not a day goes by that we (and Derby, and our Great Dane, Mouse) don’t miss our little “Buckers.” Thank you for letting us share his story.
– Karen and Chris Dorn