The Squirrel Chronicles

Buddy came into our lives 11 years ago. He was a shabby yorki-poo who was abandonned in the parking lot of a local supermarket. He was hanging out there for days, dancing on his hind legs and begging for food.
We took him home.
He was so so skinny, and his black curly fur was matted. He had a big bloody gash on his forehead, and both his ears were frostbitten. He had also been severely abused...the vet said many of his teeth had been kicked out.
He was so happy to have a new, friendly home. We called him our little circus dog, because he could dance on his hind legs. He would jump, and bark and run around the yard with us. He was such a frisky guy.
He thought he was a big dog, and would savagely chase after all the neighborhood's german shepards and labs. He barked INCESSANTLY through the windows and the glass doors at squirrels, birds, people and dogs. He gave chase to threatening leaves in the yard.
He was fiercely devoted to the female folk of our family, and was completely opposed to the males. It never failed that he attempted to bite my dad and brothers if they came too near my mom, myself or my sister.
He loved to take walks and he would station his little 8 pound body at my feet and bark and bark and bark and BARK until I sighed and took him outside for an inspection of every single tree and bush in the neighborhood.
It was difficult for strangers to like Buddy. Mostly because he barked ferociously and tried to bite (but come on, most of his teeth were gone anyway!) But we loved him. We loved him with the heart and soul of our family. Because he had come from a place where NOBODY loved him. And we intended to give him EXACTLY what he deserved and needed. He needed us to love him. So we did.
We walked him twice a day and fed him his favorite cheesy snacks. We played games with flashlights, and socks (Buddy was uninterested in conventional dog toys). He made the cave under the dining room table into his den, and ran there immediately with a piece of stolen food from the dinner table, or a championed sock from one of our games.
He slept with me at night when I was home from college. He snuggled up in the crook of my bent knees, and always tried to bite me when I rolled over on him. He was not a lap dog by any means. He was usually growly or snarly when we tried to snag a kiss or a pat. But he also had his intuitive moments, and he often sat quiety next to me if I was crying, letting me pet him soothingly.
We loved him and spoiled him, and turned hi into the brattiest, most self centered dog EVER. But in our minds, he deserved it. He brought our family closer. He gave us something to laugh about, to sigh about and to communicate about.
Yesterday, Buddy got so sick, that we just couldn't watch him get any sicker. We just couldn't....
He was suffering everyday, and getting worse with each passing hour. He couldn't go up and down the stairs, he had a double eye infection. He hadn't eaten for 3 days. He couldn't go on walks because he was so tired. He was just tired. He was 15 years old. (105 in people years) The vet said he would need to be hospitalized for 5 days to regulate his blood sugar, and even then, he probably wouldn't be back to his same self.

So I had to take Buddy to the vet, but he couldn't come home with me. We all had to say goodbye to him yesterday, and it was the hardest thing I have ever, EVER EVER done.
I feel so sad that he is missing from our lives, but I don't feel like we did anything wrong. In fact, I felt relieved to see him finally so peaceful, and able to rest. (he wasn't even sleeping at night) I got to hold him, and cradle him, and tell him over and over how much we love him. And that he wouldn't hurt anymore. He was very calm the whole time, (I think because I kept feeding him american cheese, which was his FAVORITE. It was the only thing he had eaten in days.) He was quiet and calm, and I know he is not mad at us. He filled my dreams last night, and I know he is safe. He is safe,and he is happy, and he is chasing leaves again, and barking at german shepards.