All Dogs Go To Heaven

Our big boy Buddy passed away last night. He was about 8 1/2 years old. I say about because we got him when he was around a year and a half and were never really sure of his age or birthday. He was the lovinest dog we've ever had. Someone got him as a pup and didn't realize how big a Newfoundland would get. We were told he was passed off to someone else in payment for a roofing job. After that, he was kept chained up outside for about six months before he was brought to our attention. We were told we could have him, and being "between dogs", we said "what the hell". When we went to pick him up we were floored. He was not only a massive dog, but really nasty. Smelly, matted all to hell and pretty rough lookin'. When we went to pick him up he came running at us and we all stepped aside. Good thing, he jumped right in the open back door of the truck and shot us a look that said "well, let's go"! That was about seven years ago this summer. He loved to swim and chase the boys around the yard. He went camping with us and used to just lay down in the lake. He was so big that when he did, he looked like the Loch Ness monster sitting in the water with just his head stickin' up. He hadn't been himself lately. Knee surgery in the fall never really seemed to take. He wasn't himself last night either. Laying in his favorite summer spot in the basement, he was drooling (more than usual!) and panting pretty good. Paul laid with him, put some ice cubes in his water and stayed down by him for quite a while. This morning Rocco wouldn't go outside. Instead, he lead Diane to the basement where Buddy had curled up on the carpet in what looked like a very peaceful pose. No more pain. We love and miss you already. Say hi to Sid and go slobber on my Dad. Sometimes with a rescue dog it's not the dog being rescued. Thanks for all the love Buddy!