|Buddy in the cat bad.|
|Buddy in the Sierras.|
|Buddy and Sadie. Friends for life.|
Nobody really knew how old Buddy was, and you certainly couldn't tell by the way he acted. When I first adopted him, people would say, "Oh, look at that nice old dog," to which I would respond, "He's one." He had a predictable, easy-going temperament and that's what endeared him to everyone he met. Buddy loved to dance. He greeted everyone he met by rearing up on his back legs and gracefully falling forward, trusting that his partner would grab his paws and engage in his waltz.
|Buddy hiking at Dye Creek.|
|The Dog Van.|
|Buddy at the top of Fiske Peak.|
Buddy was a very gentle soul and loved everyone. His personality was in stark contrast to his sister, Sadie, who likes few people and even fewer dogs. When we would encounter kids that wanted to pet my "dalmatians" I would send Buddy in as the greeter. He loved kids and would gladly roll over anywhere and let them pat his belly, scratch his ears or even pull on his tail. He didn't care. The video above pretty much exemplifies Buddy's personality.
|Buddy and his pink purse.|
|Clever Buddy finds the cat food.|
There has always been some question about Buddy's intelligence. His pal Sadie can without question do calculus in her head, but Buddy always acted like a simple boy. I now know that this was truly an act. For example, Buddy was a mastermind at getting food off of counters when I would leave anything within Buddy reach. Sadie no doubt got most of the spoils of his efforts but his climbing skills were certainly a benefit to them both. Just a few months ago, I noticed that we were going through cat food like crazy, but the cats didn't seem to be gaining a proportionate amount of weight. I was laying in bed one morning when I heard a clanking in the cat's room and walked in just as Buddy was exiting the convenient staircase I had given him to access the cat food. I wondered how long he had been at this. Clever boy.
Buddy loved to run and could go for miles and miles without tiring--as long as there was a scent to follow. On a leash and at my side, Buddy lagged. When I ran with my dogs, I would feel a little contorted with Sadie pulling on the leash moving forward, and Buddy dragging on his leash from behind. I think buddy just wasn't built to be a hobby jogger. His true running talent was reserved for the times when he needed to get a move on.
|Buddy in his pillow nest. The bed was made before he got in. Really.|
I miss you Buddy Boy.