My Little Buddy

Approximately six years ago, a young lady asked if we would puppy-sit her dog for a couple of weeks. We said yes, not knowing what kind or anything. She brought him to us and he was the cutest little red chihuahua named Gizmo. And he was a house dog. Joe had always said dogs belonged in the yard, not in the house. Well, Gizmo moved right in and took up residence. At the end of the two weeks, the young lady was not able to take him back and he became ours. She will never know what a tremendous favor she did for us. Gizmo was indeed a delight and we loved him almost like a child. In fact, he was our child since Trina and Eddy had moved on.

Then three years ago, we became "parents" again. This time it was a rescue and was he pitiful. Every little bone in his body stuck out and he had lost most of the hair on his head. He and his little sister had been locked in a closet and somehow they were found and taken to a vet. A friend of ours heard about it and went to get the little girl, but he could not leave the other one. He brought him to us and Mule became a member of the family. Mule is also a chihuahua except he is what is called a deer-head and Gizmo was an apple-head. They didn't get along too well at first. Gizmo was used to being the only dog on the premises and along comes this little thing and starts acting like he belongs here too.

Then on Sunday, October 5, while they were outside doing their usual morning things, a larger dog from across the road attacked Gizmo. I guess she took on Gizmo because Gizmo was always the barker. We didn't think Giz was hurt very badly, but Joe took him to the vet the next day and had to leave him overnight. I had to leave Sunday afternoon for a four day conference with the hospital volunteers. When I got home Wednesday afternoon, I was really shocked to see how badly he looked. He had stitches on his little back and on his underside. His belly area was all bruised and he walked like he was in real pain. He would not eat but drank water constantly. The vet said the trauma was so great that he probably wouldn't eat for at least 5 to 7 days, but to make sure he got plenty of liquid and his medication.

By bedtime, he wasn't acting like he was getting to feel any better. I fixed his little bed right by our bed (He normally slept with us.) I had cried so much that I could not sleep and it seemed like I was turning the light on every few minutes checking on him. Finally around midnight he was making some odd noised so I got up and saw that he was trying to crawl out of his bed. I picked him up and just sat on the floor holding him. I kept rubbing his little head and talking to him. Joe leaned over the bed and began to massage his back. He was hurt a lot worst than we thought and around 12:30 he just took a couple of breaths and died. I cried and cried, just like I am right now. I miss him so much, but when you have a pet that eats with you, sleeps with you, goes places with you and sits with you while you read or watch TV and this had been going on for over siz years, it hurts and it hurts bad. Littlw Mule is constantly walking around as if he is looking for him. If I am up walking around, Mule is usually right under my feet. Don't tell me dogs don't have feelings and can feel emotions.. If you believe that, then you have never owned a dog.

Joe fixed a little box for him and left his towel wrapped around him. He then put a plastic bag around him. He dug a little grave down under the pines and buried him. My big old manly husband even fixed a styrofoam cup and put three little roses in it.

We plan to get another apple-head when we can find one. We hope to get a red coated one It must have a short snout, little pointed ears and a tail that curls over his back. I know there will never be another Gizmo, but I sure do want something to fill up this big empty hole that is in my heart. Mule needs a little buddy, too.

Little Buddy, if there is a doggie heaven, I know you are running full speed and having a good time. Momma and Daddy and Mule miss you and will always love you.