Buddy Passes Away 06/05/2013 – 02/04/2025

My Main Man and Super Helper, my Boxer, Buddy, passed away on the morning of February 4th, 2025 just prior to 11:00 AM. It was a quick onset with debilitating loss of function to his hind quarters in particular. He was not eating well and was declining old favorites leading up to his having to be hospitalized on the afternoon of Friday, January 31st, 2025. He did eat twice the day before losing his ability to walk so this was a very confusing set of symptoms that he presented to me.

Buddy had been in and out of the house several times that Friday morning. I was watching him because he was having issues getting around on the wooden floors. He was noticeably slipping so I spent some time on Friday morning clipping his nails and moving rugs and runners to help him get around to the normal places where he moved, ate, and slept. I had chalked it up to old age as he had displayed stiffness and periodic problems getting around after he had been laying down for a while. Around lunch, he wanted out and he gingerly walked down the ramp out back. His slow movement was not unusual as we had a large amount of snow so the ramp had been slick for a number of days. After finishing his business, he started back across the grass toward the ramp and lost power to his hind legs. This caused him to sit rather abruptly and I started considering whether I should go out and help him back up. I decided to give him a minute. He looked around for what seemed like a very long time but it was probably 30 seconds. It was like he was taking it all in one last time. He did manage to get his hind legs under him and came back up the ramp and into the house to lie down on one of the two living room pads that he and Chunk rotate on and off of. He never did get up again.

Buddy managed to work himself off of the pad and onto the wooden floor. I tried to help him up and he wasn’t liking being touched. He was being uncharacteristically snappy with me. I tried to move some stiff outdoor mats with some texture under him to give him a chance but it just wasn’t going to work out. Called the vet and they told me that I could bring him on in.

I knew that I couldn’t move him without having him muzzled. He was feeling that much pain when being moved. Decided a trip over the river to get a muzzle was my only choice. Never used a muzzle or anything similar and didn’t trust using a belt.

He was as I thought he might be when I got back. It was obvious that he had tried to get up and had expended energy to do so. Put on some thick gloves and started to put the muzzle on him. He had no resistance and accepted the inevitability of wearing the muzzle so I took the gloves off and put the thing on him. I was able to slide the Hoyer lift sling under him and he didn’t give me too much of a problem as I rolled the two supports over either side of him. I think he had an idea that I was trying to help or the muzzle prevented it but he made no more sounds for me that day. Rolled him out to the truck and after adjusting the ride height, was able to slide the sling under the truck and place Buddy in the floorboard of the back seat. At the Vet, it was out of the truck with the Hoyer sling and they transferred him to a sling they used to take him on in. A parting, “Be a good boy” as he looked at me out of the sling and he was gone until I saw him the morning I had to euthanize him.

Vet said there was fever and elevated white blood cell count. Hydrated him and started several courses of medications trying to get a positive response. Though Buddy continued to eat some, he didn’t respond to anything. Tests showed his pancreatic levels higher than the Vet had ever seen. Though no exact cause for the lack of recovery was given, I’d guess it was some form of pancreatic cancer or cancer affecting, among other things, his pancreas. It became clear by that Tuesday morning that Buddy wasn’t going to improve. Went to Vet Clinic at 10:15 and Buddy was then peacefully and humanely sent on his way.

Buddy started out, in my mind, as a replacement but I was so wrong about that due to what he became to me. The wife, N, brought his predecessor, (Boxer Buddy 1), back from a walk exhibiting what appeared to be heat stroke symptoms. It was unseasonably hot so the slobbering at the mouth seemed to fit. I treated him for heatstroke and we took him to the Vet. It was diagnosed as a probable stroke in the days that followed and we had to have him put down. N felt terrible and responsible as she was close to entering the 9 year regression that was Alzheimer’s. We took 2 trips to a puppy mill in Western NC where we eventually left with Buddy 2 to replace our sorely missed Buddy 1.

I had originally named the new Boxer Otis but he very quickly became Buddy as N began to see him as the original. He never cared what we called him as long as we gave him some attention. He and I got to know each other well as I had to give him meds for the demodectic mange his mother had given him as a parting gift. N was feeding him in the beginning and they forged a bond that he honored until she passed away. He was always her dog and he spent hours with his head in her lap and then at her feet as she declined.

He had time for me, too. He was never scared of the riding mower we had and that same trust he developed as a pup carried through to where he would be present when I mowed, tractored or did some sort of vegetation clearing. He’d never get in the way but he would observe and follow from a distance and then come to visit me if I were to get off the tractor or mower, or get out of the car or truck. He was my helper and I often said that to him. He was also good at supervising by giving anything I completed the once over before we headed into the house.

Yes, he was “just a dog” but the almost twelve years that I shared with him contained perhaps the most drastic changes in my life and he always provided a big neck to hug, a sympathetic look, and the excitement that you were home even if you had only been away a short time – unconditional love. He helped me care for N, tolerated 2 major moves, helped me find property and get a house built, and he has helped me do all of the chores required of me here at The Old Radio Ranch.

The 4 days that Buddy was in the Hospital were the longest we were ever parted. I made the mistake once of treating him like a dog and boarding him for 3 days. He was so miserable when I picked him up that I vowed to never do it again. He slept for what seemed like several days but I believe he did finally forgive me.

Buddy was truly the sweetest dog I’ve ever had and I miss him greatly.