I’ve had heartaches all throughout high school, and there will probably be many more to come. One thing’s for certain, though: this one man has been there for me through it all.
I’m not a dog person. I’m a Budzilla person.
I guess that I’m a lucky person to have this dog as my first dog ever. The ones that come after him have large paw-shaped shoes to fill. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet, because Bud’s got a few more lot of years in him.
Yesterday after work I took Buddy to PetSmart and picked him out a new toy. The heat gets to him so he mopes around a lot so I wanted to interrupt his routine to get him feeling better.
Long story short, he’s in love with his new toy and he’s so grateful he keeps following me around while also carrying it with him at all times. I caught him snoozing with the toy cuddled between his paws and it was the cutest thing ever.
It’s 11:14PM, and I’m just getting home after an emergency run to the vet’s office (my old work station).
I had gone to the clinic earlier today, but it had been for a much more fun and coherent reason. I woke up early, did some errands, and by 3:30 I left for the clinic to get some signatures in some volunteer papers for a scholarship I am applying to. I greeted everyone, caught up in the latest news, and re-scheduled the signatures until next Monday, when the owner of the clinic would be in.
My return, however, would be not only unexpected, but I’m sure traumatic, as I can’t get the images out of my head.
At 5:45PM, on the dot, Buddy started picking at me, because I had unknowingly lost track of time. I usually walk him around 5:15, but this time I was obviously late. When I noticed this, I quickly got out and prepared him for his day walk. I hadn’t gotten three houses away from mine when a pitbull caught up to us, and jump right at Buddy’s neck. He didn’t even have time to defend himself. This dog was two sizes bigger than Bud, and there was nothing I could do for him to release my dog other than scream.
My whole block heard my screams, and even the owners, and they quickly ran to my aid. I was in this crazy haze of tears, worry and just complete fear, because the dog just wouldn’t let go. I could see him shaking Buddy around as I tried pulling him away, and the neighbors tried everything they could by throwing stuff at the other dog, pulling, and even putting their hands in the other dog’s mouth to find a release. The owner himself threw something big at his own dog, which caused him to run away back into his house.
They responded quickly, I have to give them that. They all sat me down in the street while I completely weeped holding onto my dog, who couldn’t even move. He could only sit there trying to catch his breath, while I held onto him crying. I think he didn’t dare to move because he knew how terrified I was. They offered to take me on the spot to the clinic, but I just couldn’t move. I knew all his papers were inside my house, and that the clinic I used to work at was about to close.
They managed to get me inside my house trembling, while they made arrangements with their dog, also aiding Buddy as we walked. I got home, and Buddy hid in the backyard, not being able to walk. I couldn’t even talk… I don’t know how I managed to type my mom’s number, let alone call the clinic and beg to my ex-co-workers to hold the clinic open until I got there. They did, and as soon as I got there, they had formed a working group which was ready at the door when I came in.
Buddy got bites in the neck, the ribs and at the tail area. It was a few hours until he gained the strength to walk again, let alone to trust people to touch him. Thankfully, he was quickly shaven, cleaned, and given the meds he needed. I got a warm welcome from everyone who had commended me on doing the right thing, but I just couldn’t gather my words. It wasn’t until I got him back to me with his tail wagging and upbeat sense of humor that I could breathe again. After everything, they actually offered me my job back, since I had to leave it on March to continue studying, until I leave for college. I’m definitely taking it.
The owners of the dog offered to pay the hospital bills… They actually don’t have to pay much, because the clinic only charged me the meds, not the visit or the treatment on spot. And when I came back just now with the paperwork, they had already gotten rid of the dog. This actually broke my heart, because I didn’t want this to happen… I actually felt so sorry when I saw three or four people on him, hitting him to make him let go of Bud. They were so nice, and the lady was crying. I’d known this dog previously, and he had never acted this way before. Neither she or I understand what happened then. Not even my mom blames them.
One man came up to them and complained about having a dog of such breed in a home, that Pitbulls weren’t acceptable household pets. I wish I could’ve been there to make the man shut up. I know nothing of the attack was the dog’s breed’s fault. And I’ll stand by it, time after time. I just feel so bad because, first of all, it happened, and second, they quickly got rid of him, even though they were so attached to the dog. I hope they take my begs seriously and return him to his home.
I’m still a bit shaky, but Buddy’s okay. I just wish I could get those images out of my head, and that he wasn’t in so much pain.
He’s a bit uneasy for obvious reasons, but he’s responding well and is in a good mood. I was scared that he was going to be in more pain today than yesterday and wouldn’t be in the mood. He actually came to me with his collar for me to put it back on… I didn’t dare to tie it all the way, but it’s on him so he can feel the jingling of his tags as he walks. I think he needs that to feel normal, I suppose.
The bites look just as red as yesterday, that’s for sure. Soon enough it will start to bruise, but hopefully it won’t be that bad.
Thanks for everyone who wished him a quick recovery and help me feel better. I owe you a lot.
I’m missing him so much right now. I wish I could have him cuddling in bed with me like we used to do when I was home. I miss him bothering me for attention, and hearing his collar bounce around with him whenever he moved around the house.