01/21/2025
My wife, Stacy, and I had just lost our first Golden Retriever. We hadn’t even thought about getting another dog. I was sitting in my chair when my phone rang. A lady on the other end told me I could come pick up my dog. Confused, I asked what she was talking about.
My son, Tim, overheard the conversation and said, “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you—I found you a new dog.”
Unbeknownst to me, Tim had seen a post on Facebook about a lady who could no longer care for her Golden Retriever due to health issues. She was taking applications to find him a new home. Tim went through the entire application process on our behalf, which included submitting pictures of our home and dog, and answering many questions about our lifestyle and how we cared for our pets.
When the call came, Tim told me, “I’m going to pick up your new dog.” The lady had chosen us to be his new family.
They told us his name was Joe-Joe, and I immediately thought, That will have to change. When Tim came back with the dog, he opened our door and let him in. The dog ran straight over to me, sat down next to my chair, and rested his head on the armrest. I looked at him and said, “I guess you are my buddy.”
And that’s how he got his name.
About a year after we brought Buddy home, there was an unexpected and unprecedented fight between him and our other dog while we were at work. Buddy’s right rear leg was injured and required several surgeries. During his recovery, I started taking Buddy to work with me to keep an eye on his wounds and ensure his safety. Even after we installed fencing to separate the dogs, I continued bringing him to work. There were never any problems between the two dogs when we were home, but I didn’t want to risk further injury.
For the next five years, Buddy accompanied me to work every day until I retired. He would lie under my workbench, so quiet that most of the time, you wouldn’t even know he was there. One of my coworkers would take him outside for breaks, joking that she and Buddy needed a “cigarette break.” Buddy loved making the rounds during employee breaks, collecting small treats from everyone.
Even customers came to know Buddy. Some would stop by just to say hello and always brought him a treat. Buddy quickly built a fan club—at work, at the vet, and wherever we went.
At the time, we lived in California, in the middle of the Mojave Desert. We often took our dogs exploring. One evening, while visiting the site of an old mining town, my wife suddenly yelled, “Buddy has something in his mouth!” She rushed over and told him to drop it.
To our surprise, it was a stuffed racc**n. It looked clean and almost new, so we determined it was likely a lost dog toy. After assuring ourselves it was safe, we let Buddy keep it. He was so proud of that racc**n!
Buddy carried his “c**n” everywhere. Every morning, when we got ready for work, Buddy would grab his c**n and take it along. When we got home, he’d do the same. Over time, the racc**n became pretty ragged, so we searched for an identical one and found it.
However, Buddy wanted nothing to do with the new c**n. So my wife came up with a plan: she rubbed the new racc**n in the dirt around our home and workplace, then hid it under a pile of rocks. She took Buddy outside for a walk until he “found” it. After that, the new c**n was acceptable.
We were blessed to have Buddy in our lives for over 11 years. He was always wagging his tail, greeting us happily, and showering us with unconditional love. We used to call him our “Thumper” because of how often he wagged his tail. Buddy would come up to us, rest his head in our laps, and give us love that felt like a hug.
Our hearts are broken, and we miss him dearly. We will always remember the love and joy he brought to our lives. He will always be my Buddy.
♥️ Written with love by Buddy's Dad
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