Dave H
Well-Known Member
After breakfast yesterday morning, Wed, I grabbed the last sausage on my plate and started wrapping it in a napkin, as I've done so many times before.
Then I realized I had no dog to take it home to anymore, as he'd crossed the Rainbow Bridge Tuesday morning.
Old habits do die hard.
Anyway, after 15 1/2 years of life, 14 1/2 with me, time ran out on my little Buddy and his days of mooching treats on the Tyee Spit have ended.
He was very good at mooching and always remembered who had produced a treat previously and would pull like the lead dog on an Iditarod race team when he saw them coming.
Tyee Spit regulars will remember him I'm sure, as will some of my rod-holders from Tyee season.
Here's a few photos of him throughout his times.
The first one.
My hoary old joke is that I tried to teach him to row my Tyee rowboat, so I could fish myself, but all he ever did was Dog-paddle.
The next pic is from but six days ago, early in the morning, on his last walk out on the Spit. He didn't get far and was happy to get home that morning. Always high-spirited and with his tail erect. He was a happy dog and well known.
He was also a classic example of "a willing spirit but the flesh is weak", insofar as he never lost his zest for life but his body just got so weak that he couldn't walk long without staggering or nearly falling over. He'd both fall up the stairs and sometimes down the stairs. It was always an adventure.
Really tough to watch and indicative of his physical failings.
Really miss the little bugger already but time will heal that feeling and this isn't my first big loss.
In memory of Buddy, pet a strange dog or slip them a treat, with the owner's permission of course.
Buddy would like that.
Here’s one last pic when he was just back from his groomer.
He really was a handsome puppy.
Take care.
Then I realized I had no dog to take it home to anymore, as he'd crossed the Rainbow Bridge Tuesday morning.
Old habits do die hard.
Anyway, after 15 1/2 years of life, 14 1/2 with me, time ran out on my little Buddy and his days of mooching treats on the Tyee Spit have ended.
He was very good at mooching and always remembered who had produced a treat previously and would pull like the lead dog on an Iditarod race team when he saw them coming.
Tyee Spit regulars will remember him I'm sure, as will some of my rod-holders from Tyee season.
Here's a few photos of him throughout his times.
The first one.
My hoary old joke is that I tried to teach him to row my Tyee rowboat, so I could fish myself, but all he ever did was Dog-paddle.
The next pic is from but six days ago, early in the morning, on his last walk out on the Spit. He didn't get far and was happy to get home that morning. Always high-spirited and with his tail erect. He was a happy dog and well known.
He was also a classic example of "a willing spirit but the flesh is weak", insofar as he never lost his zest for life but his body just got so weak that he couldn't walk long without staggering or nearly falling over. He'd both fall up the stairs and sometimes down the stairs. It was always an adventure.
Really tough to watch and indicative of his physical failings.
Really miss the little bugger already but time will heal that feeling and this isn't my first big loss.
In memory of Buddy, pet a strange dog or slip them a treat, with the owner's permission of course.
Buddy would like that.
Here’s one last pic when he was just back from his groomer.
He really was a handsome puppy.
Take care.
