Buddy

It was the day Roscoe, Rich’s Shih Tzu puppy, came to visit that the idea of needing a puppy was implanted in Mom’s head. Having aspirated some food during a recent Oktoberfest dinner, she was still fighting off pneumonia/bronchitis infection in November of 1997. While lying in her bed, feeling very ill, I asked her what she wanted for her 80th birthday. She said simply “A puppy”.

Soon after Mom’s illness took a nasty turn and she ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. Unable to swallow without aspirating food, she was given an abdominal feeding tube. This all took place prior to her birthday.

As it turned out, several family members were available when her birthday rolled around. Contacts to kennels with small breed dogs in the area were made and an entourage of Picks went with Dad to two or three area dog kennels to find an appropriate birthday present for Mom. Lo and behold one was found! The decision had been made and the entourage came back to 502 Kennedy Street, Remsen, Iowa with a small fluffy ball of cream-colored fur. It was a male Pomeranian puppy for Mom’s 80th birthday.

Although he spent every night at my home so that he would not disturb Dad’s and Mom’s sleep, he was definitely Mom’s dog. This little “Buddy” (a name good enough for President Clinton’s dog, surely good enough for Mom’s pride and joy) became the focus for daily visits and was a terrific source of entertainment. He was a smart little pup with a lot of personality.

Dad aptly nick-named him “Stinky-Poo” during those first months when he had bowel trouble. After a long three months of health problems (including two serious stays on I.V. at the local doggy hospital) Buddy thrived. He would never cease to amaze Mom with his ability to dance on his hind legs and hold his front legs up in the air like a bunny rabbit. Barely a day went by without Buddy chasing his own tail in circles at such a rapid pace that he would have to stop or fall down. 

One of Mom’s favorite things was when Buddy would lick her ankles. It must have tickled because it always made her smile. Buddy brought much joy to Mom’s last couple of years. He adored Mom and Dad, but he knew instinctively who he owed for his happy existence in Remsen with proof positive in his efforts to speak. On more than one occasion, he was heard to growl (talk) that sounded very close to “ma-ma”.

The most memorable interaction with Mom and Buddy was one night when Mom’s blood sugar had dropped below 40. Dad had poured six ounces of Coca-Cola with two tablespoons of extra sugar into her feeding tube while talking to her and asking her questions. She appeared not to care nor respond until he asked “Where’s Buddy? What is Buddy doing?” It was at that point, even as she was teetering on passing out (almost going into a diabetic coma) that she visibly fought to keep her eyes open and look around to find Buddy. True to his instinctive nature, Buddy came running up to Mom and jumped in her lap. He began licking her face and kept her awake until her blood sugar rose to nearly 85. That night Buddy had saved Mom’s life. There were many more days following this one that Buddy and Mom would rock in her chair together while she pet him and pet him and pet him….