Buck
Dear friends,
The outpouring of love and condolences from so many of you is overwhelming and is greatly appreciated. Some of you have asked for more details.
In late August a lump started to develop around Buck's left eye. We initially thought sinus infection but it grew very large very fast, got very hard, and was completely distorting the left side of his face and muzzle. We were going to get a CT scan done after the weekend but on Sunday realized it was affecting his breathing and he was suffering and we couldn’t wait to get an official diagnosis. Whether or not it was malignant, it grew so fast he would have been overwhelmed by it long before we could start any treatment, assuming there was one. Sunset veterinary care came to our house yesterday, and he passed with our other two dogs next to him, cuddled and held and reassured by his loved ones. He deserved so much better but on this earth the best we could do for him was let him run free and leave that terrible thing behind. It just happened so fast. We are in shock.
What is truly extraordinary about this unforeseen tragedy is when it became apparent that Buck's circumstance was life-threatening, it crossed my mind that it would be helpful if not ideal to track down Buck's long-time vet, Dr. Rita McKay, who retired a couple of years ago. She's simply the best and we'd been through so much with her with Buck and our other dogs. But tracking her down was not possible, at least for us...
When Valerie found Sunset vet care, which specializes in end-of-life care in one's own home, I decided to research them. Lo and behold one of Sunset's vets is-- Dr. Rita McKay! We contacted them immediately and we heard back first thing Monday morning. Dr. Rita came to our house mid-afternoon and went through the process of quality-of-life assessment. Buck showed occasional flashes of his old self, but it was clear that he was suffering...
We had to consider practicalities such as helping to carry Buck's remains to the car once euthanasia was complete. My balance would not allow me to help, and Valerie's back prevented her assistance, though we both walked alongside, our short, sombre procession unnoticed by our neighbours. Our good friend Ian happened to be in touch that morning inquiring after Buck, so I asked him if he might be able to come over on short notice, when needed, to assist in carrying the gurney. He said it would be an honour and sure enough, a few hours later when the gut-wrenching decision was made, he immediately came over and waited until needed.
We can't tell you how comforting it was-- for Buck, too-- to have his regular vet at hand. Was it coincidence? Or was it the Hand of God?
When Dr. Rita made her assessment, she said it was not her place to make a formal diagnosis, but it was apparent Buck's malady was life-threatening and beginning to cause him great distress. What was distressing to us was learning that even had it been possible to treat the growth around Buck's left eye (and it was already starting to spread to his right--that's how quickly it manifest) the specialized diagnostic equipment is not available locally. The closest facility is in Alberta!
The speed and sinister nature of Buck's mysterious malady gave us no alternative. But the timing of Dr. Rita's availability and the flashes of Buck's glowing personality still shining through despite his obvious discomfort and alarming physical alteration, were like parcelled blessings in an otherwise unbearable scenario.
You can well imagine the rest: the medical preparation and drug administering--such gentleness in the doing, particularly at the hands of Dr. Rita! And all the while Valerie and I lying beside Buck on the floor, tears streaming from our reddened eyes onto his snout, his eyes barely open as his senses started to fade. We wanted the last sounds he heard to be our professions of love and appreciation. His last sense to leave him, probably his sense of touch, as we stroked his muzzle and scratched his ears, was like the soft caress of enshrouded velvet. In a way that only pet parents can appreciate, there, played out on our living room floor, befell the tempest of our souls as our beloved boy's life drained away, so sweetly, so gently, as was his nature. Apart from the awfulness of the separation from the once-scared little puppy singled out at the dog adoption fair over a decade ago, it was perfect. If the cleaving of the love with which we imbue our animal companions can ever be perfect, and it can be so when the pain of separation and loss is eventually replaced by fondness of memory and hope for our future reunion, then this was perfect,
We will no longer think of Buck. Instead, we will remember. For it is in remembrance lest we forget.
We love you, Buck.
(text continues below photos)
A PRAYER FOR BUCK
Oh, big, brown Buck,
Beautiful creature of the forest,
Who wandered into our lives over a decade ago!
Fighting to survive from the word go;
Determined, brave, despite being so afraid,
You managed to find a substitute mother;
'Mongst her and her litter you were the Other.
She shared her nipple,
Shaped your early life’s ripple;
Taught you the essentials of survival,
Such as hunting rabbits,
And how-- and when-- to hide well.
Skills put to the test
The day the laughing bounty hunter
With his cruel blade of cold steel
Happened upon you and your adopted family.
Then, perhaps for some perverted sport,
As well as monetary gain,
He made his well-practiced slice,
The life-shaping, scarring’s pain
So cruelly exercised against you,
Your surrogate mother,
Your younger, defenceless siblings.
Your amber eyes flashed fear,
Then agonizing pain, as your family’s
Blended blood-clotting yelps
Turned to haunting, moon-shaking howls.
Such unnecessary trauma;
For the hunter a chilly thrill,
For you, the hunted, a formative lesson in caution.
Somehow your mini-pack survived;
More than survived—thrived!
Rescued by the reverse of the trophy-killers.
For the first time you felt the blanket’s warmth,
The coo of reassurance, a soft touch,
And the profound beginnings of a new perception:
Love.
Little, under-nourished Buck,
Before you knew this name,
Part of a litter all rescued, mother too!
The cold North no longer your destiny,
“Leaf,” as you were called,
Journeyed down to Winnipeg, restfully.
Yet the shadow of timidity would not be easily shaken.
Considerate care followed,
Though sensory overload made you wary,
Afraid of almost everyone who coddled.
Then—the magical day when,
Surrounded by the plethora of rescues,
Their frantic yips producing a hopeful cacophony,
A kind man caught your shy, amber-eyed pup’s gleam
And lo, there was the beginning of a dream!
He knew, and maybe you did too,
You were the one. But SHE had to find you:
Your new “mom”.
With slight goading from he who knew,
Her sights were focussed on the little one—
You!
From that moment on, you were figuratively
(When not literally) in the arms of your forever mother
And, a lot of the time too, your forever dad—your Other.
One problem arose: your name.
For Leaf it could not be permanently.
What could it be? Let’s see, let’s see…
And then, of all the bloomin’ luck,
This pup, who from forever mom wouldn’t be unstuck,
In keeping with your look and the Jack London book,
Was henceforth without hesitation named BUCK!
This beautiful brown creature of the forest
So noble, so majestic, so magnificent.
So aptly named.
What a life you had with us!
Two sisters initially taught you
What to do in your new world,
What to bark at, what to let alone.
You were obedient.
You grew in strength and confidence until
You became top dog.
In the fullness of time, you became the
Oldest of the trio of hounds in their home.
(There is a cat who is older, but cats don’t count right now.)
Eventually brother Paladin joined the pack
To keep you on your toes.
Then, long after that, little brother Beau
Joined the fold to keep you in throes.
- - - - - - - - - - - -- - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
And so, Buck lived out his life where
He could not have been more greatly loved.
He was a noble beast.
Still inwardly timid,
But Lord Protector when he needed to be.
His leaving of us is too soon;
We still see him in our minds.
Every moment of the day coincides with how it used to be.
With one exception. Buck is no longer there.
It isn’t fair!
He suffered enough in the cold North’s glare.
Oh, how we loved that precious boy!
We hope to see him again one day
In that glorious place wherein
Reunions are permanent and healing is complete.
This is our prayer for Buck,
And for us.
Amen.