As a reporter, there are stories you just don’t want to write, but you have to do it anyway.
This is one of them.
I’ve spent almost 50 years providing readers with the news – good and bad – and even in the best-case scenarios, the process of how best to write them sometimes seems daunting.
Finding the right way to begin, then deciding what information to include. and even more important, what details to leave out.
So, here it goes – through buckets of tears.
Aidan became an only dog for the first time in his life on Sunday night, June 23. Just as Buzz had when Ryan passed in August 2020.
Buzz relished having me all to himself and he quickly adapted to the new normal, thriving in all of our delightful adventures.
Then along came Aidan in September, 2023.
But, Buzz being Buzz, he adapted to whatever I wanted. But this time around, he was the king of the household, and it became his job to teach Aidan the ropes. Hopefully some of Buzz’s teachings have stayed in Aidan’s little adolescent puppy brain. Because now it’s his turn to figure it out solo.
I could read Buzz like a good book. And he knew no matter what, I would protect and care for him. And that I did. Unfailingly. So on Sunday night, when faced with one of the hardest decisions that pet owners must make, I did just that.
Which leads me to the question of when is it the right time to help your pet cross the rainbow bridge?
It’s not something you want to think about – life and death – when you take on the responsibility of adding that adorable fuzzy little puppy to the household.
But in my case, this is the fifth time I’ve had to do so.
And I’ve dearly loved all the dogs that came before Buzz. None of those decisions were easy. With each one, a little piece of my heart went with them.
With Buzz, however, a big chunk of my heart was unexpectedly ripped from my chest.
I learned early on with my first dog, Yankee, that doing the right thing for your pet a day too soon is always better than waiting a day too long. (I still feel badly I made a day late call for Yankee.)
But sometimes, it’s made easier because your pet lets you know. That shining light goes out of their eyes and is replaced with a dim one that conveys please make this better. And in an oddly comforting way, if you are lucky enough to have this happen, it makes the choice a little easier.
In a role reversal, Buzz gave me the courage to break that special bond we had solidified for more than 11 years.
I could write a book about all of our accomplishments. He was truly a once-in-a-lifetime dog on every imaginable level. And certainly, I’ve written many columns about them.
But what’s most important to me is how many people he touched in so many different walks of life. Not just at the dog shows but through personal interactions — even through the many stories I’ve written about him. Buzz was an outstanding four-legged ambassador for his breed, for the sport of Rally, and for dog-kind (if that’s a word.)
But even more important, he was the sweetest most wonderful pet I’ve ever owned. He slept next to me in bed. He greeted me every day with a sparkle in his eyes, tail always a-wagging, and today’s-gonna-be-a-great-day attitude.
The ribbons on his wall will fade, and his records will eventually be eclipsed – maybe even by Aidan – but the memories of our time together will never die.
So now it’s time for Aidan and I to figure things out together as we greet each day in our new world together without Buzz.
But I know that some how, some way, Buzz will always play an important part because he taught me how to be a better dog trainer and a kinder, more patient human being.
So although Buzz’s earthly story has come to an end, Aidan’s is in its infancy. Stay tuned.
I know Buzz will be watching over us, and cheering us on with chirps and screams from Heaven. We just won’t be able to hear them.
I firmly believe a connection like ours is eternal. So, until we meet again over the rainbow bridge.
I also know he’ll be in the front of the line, center stage, to welcome me and lead me to whatever is next.
Buzz 03/01/13-06/23/24.
