Beloved companion.
April 1, 2014 - January 30, 2025
Someone very wise once told me to write everything down that I want to remember because it is human nature to forget the details. Over the past couple of months I sent myself emails with notes about Buns, moments in time, progressing through to to the end of my sweet boy's life. I am choosing to share some of them here as part of my grieving process. After all, when life blesses you with a great love like I had with Buns, you share it outloud, memorializing them forevermore.
Last summer, around 4th of July, I noticed blood in Buns' urine. We went to the vet immediately and what I thought was some sort of infection, turned out to be a three-hour vet visit where at the end I was told that he had prostate cancer and that the kindest thing would be to put my dog down; the sooner the better. It felt surreal to walk out of that room, pay for this disastorous visit and drive home. I called Harold on my way home a complete mess, my head pounding, and unsure how my body was functioning to drive at all. I was so numb and scared. It took me a couple of days to get it together enough to seek out a second opinion. That second opinion was the best decision I ever made. Thanks to Dr. Sandigo at the Pet Clinic in Somerton, AZ, my baby boy was able to stay with me for seven more glorious months. We managed his pain, the bleeding stopped, he gained some weight, and for a while, we could pretend that he was fine. Until it wasn't.
This is a song I would sing to him when I was scared:
It’s gonna be fiiiiiiiine
You’re gonna be fine
It’s gonna be fiiiiiine
Cuz you were mine
When it’s tiiiiiiiime
It’s gonna be fine
Cuz I’ll see you again
Written last summer after the initial diagnosis:
It’s been two days since we found out about buns’ diagnosis. He is going to visit a vet in Somerton for a second opinion.
I think I already know the answer
I just need to be sure
For his sake
Because I love him
And he deserves to know we made sure this was the answer
I read today that prostate cancer affects about 1% of dogs
What are the odds
It’s really sad
And it’s scary not knowing how much pain he is already tolerating
I’m scared to say goodbye
I don’t want to say goodbye
He was my first true pet that I raised
From day one to now, he’s been my dog
And I loved and am loving the crap out of him
I know he knows it
But I hope it’s been enough for him to know in his heart how much he means to me
Because for me, his life brought and continues to bring so much joy
I’ve walked the streets of my neighborhood with him for years
And as much of a pain it was some days, I now wish I had endless years of walks left.
He was such a good dog with adults. He loved the attention.
His tail wags are still going strong and he never gets up without a good coat shake
Sometimes I felt like his fur was a big pajama he was wearing from the top of his head all the way through his paws
I will miss how he would look up at me kind of shyly with his head bowed, and with his big brown eye looking right at me. It's like he could see my heart and I his.
My mom always told me he looked like a sad dog.
And I think he was sad sometimes, but only because he hated being alone. Buns just wanted to be with people. As long as he had 100% attention, or he was cuddled up right next to you, or sleeping right by you, he was happy.
He was definitely a companion dog and he has kept me company for more than 10 years
Road trips from Las Cruces, New Mexico / El Paso, Texas to home, trips to San Luis and trips to Phoenix. He even made it to telegraph!
Harold and I also took Buns to the beach in San Diego as part of my bucket list for him. I wanted to make sure he saw the ocean.
This feels so hard
The lump in my throat is huge
My head starts pounding when I think about it too much
But I have to remember
I have to remember all of this
I want to remember
I want to be 95 years old, near the end of my life and think about how excited I am because I am going to see my boy again and get face licks and kisses, barks asking for deserts, belly rubs, doggy sneezes and zoomies.
Memories
I remember when Harold and I were dating, Harold would say to me in his most serious tone: "Clarissa, I hope that nothing ever comes between us." He said this as Buns is sitting in the middle of the couch between us. It was one of those really funny moments that has become one of my favorite memories of the three of us.
My dad walked Buns today and he said that when they passed by my townhouse, Buns immediately started going up the driveway like he was going home
And I lost it, bawling my eyes out because he was right
This new home I have, Buns is getting to know it, but I am very sad that there won’t be enough time for him to really make this new place his home
I am joyful though that he found so much happiness in his home at the townhouse
The tail wags I’m sure my dad got when they walked by our old house would have made my day
I will try and walk him myself and go by there with him to see it in action
It’s a beautiful thing to give a beloved animal a place they so clearly love
He knew that was home
He knew
Buns woke me up four times last night to do his business and it was brutal.
His bladder control is getting worse. I have to give it to him though, he tries so hard not to have accidents in the house.
After he finally settled down, I put him on our bed and he fell asleep at my feet. We don't usually put him on the the bed anymore because of the bladder issues.
In the morning, I woke up but I didn’t see Buns at my feet anymore.I worried we pushed him off. I was about to hop off to look for him when I turned toward the center of the bed and I saw the little fuzz ball curled up between Harold's pillow and mine right by the headboard.
Harold woke and turned toward me, he was about to settle back to sleep when the fuzzy bundle moved and Harold was like, "what the hell?"
Meanwhile Buns lifts his head up and yawns, completely unfazed.
Last week, as we started noticing the progression of Buns's pain, I started staying up in the living room talking to Buns about all the things I wanted to say to him before anything happened. During one of these night chats I started singing to him, "Quedate aquí, Quedate aquí, Como quisiera que te quedaras aquí."
The day of
Am I doing the right thing?
It’s the one question I asked myself over and over and over as I debated taking him to the vet to end his life. And although the last person I asked it to was the vet, who reassured me that, this time, it was the best thing, I did manage to ask Buns directly. As he lay in his bed on the recliner at my parents' house, I knelt in front of him and I asked him through tears if I was doing the right thing. I don't know if it was timing, a coincidence or really my sweet boy answering me in his own way, but he started licking my face passionately, lovingly and so sweetly. He just kept going and going and going and I knew in my heart he was ok with my decision. He was going to miss me, but he was ready to stop hurting. And so we went through with it. After so many jokes from Harold about taking him for a ride over the years, I actually did take him for a ride and it was awful. If my dad were not driving I would have turned around. If he were not with me in the room I would have left with him. And when it was over I couldn’t hand him over. His little lifeless body, the body I loved and hugged and cried into for so many years didn’t have my Buns inside anymore. He was gone.
My dad took him from my arms after many head kisses and handed him over the nurse who looked me in the eye and said I’m sorry. And I had never felt more sad. Sad for myself and the end of the chapter of my life with baby Buns.
I told my dad later while sharing coffee and cookies at the cafe in Barnes and Noble that I missed him so much. And that I felt lonely without him. But my dad held my hands and told me he’s with me, he’s in my heart and he always will be. I do feel him inside. His energy and love.
Last night while sitting on the couch sad around 12 am, Mitty knocked over Buns’ bowl and it came down crashing. The kitties never knock anything over. And in the light of morning with more clarity I knew he was here, Buns. Letting me know he’s still here with me.
I believe kids can see and sense things that we as adults cannot. During Alejandro’s shower that evening I told him if he saw Buns to give him a kiss for me and immediately Alejandro started blowing kisses. Tears fell down my cheeks because I felt in my heart Buns was there with us.
Please stay with me forever baby Buns. I need you just as much as you needed me.
I love you so much
Momma
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