And They Call It Puppy Love

Since two people have asked me this week if I'm still writing my blog I thought I would give it a shot.

Last year around this time we were blessed with a new arrival: a beautiful golden retriever puppy who we named Buzzy. He was the puppy I had wanted ever since our previous dog had died in 2001. All of us were excited about the addition to our family. He was so cute! He was even mostly well behaved most of the time. There were, of course, many adjustments for all of us to make but we were really happy to finally have a dog.

While spring changed into summer and our puppy changed before our eyes, we took much pride and much pleasure in seeing Buzzy grow so quickly. He was a friendly and cheerful presence in our home and we loved him very much. He got some basic training and learned some manners fairly easily and soon became our best dog ever. He also soon became our furriest dog ever. As his coat changed from soft puppy fur into coarser stuff, he looked like he had a dark stripe down his back. And, of course, he shed everywhere.

Having had a golden retriever before, we knew that our new dog would shed. But one forgets just how much fur can be shed by one dog in only one day. The fur factor was most impressive. Large clumps would fall off of him as he moved around the house or got petted by the kids leaving fluffy yellow tumbleweeds to be swept up constantly. It turns out that the clouds of fur were the harbingers of doom for us.

During the summer, I learned from a physician who specializes in asthma and allergies that the main reason I was continuing to have such constant breathing problems was that I had developed an allergy to dogs. Upon hearing this news I burst into tears and felt devastated. I was told that I could try to live with the dog but that it was unlikely that my symptoms would improve as long as the dog was in our house. How unfair! I finally got the dog I'd always wanted, the dog my kids loved, the dog who even my reluctant husband had come to adore, and now he was making me sick.

I tried to make the situation work at home. I took lots of allergy medicines. I kept the dog outside as much as I could. I made sure the kids and the husband played with Buzzy outside and took him for walks often. But my efforts were to no avail. Once winter was upon us I found that I could hardly breath when I was in the same room with Buzzy. The day came where I had to make the painful decision to let Buzzy go. It was awful. Telling the kids was even worse.

Buzzy went back to the farm where he was born in order to live with his parents and siblings and cousins. Driving him there and saying good bye to him was excruciating for our whole family. I still cry and feel horrible just thinking about it almost three months later. I know we did the right thing and I know he'll find a new home but I'm so sad that we couldn't keep him. He was a part of our family for almost a year and we loved him dearly. The loss and the grief for us are as real as when we lost my mother not so long ago. That may sound melodramatic but it is true.

So that explains why I didn't write in my blog for a year. I got a puppy. I loved the puppy. I lost my puppy. It sounds so simple but, of course, life is never simple. It is good and bad and easy and hard and happy and sad. But in the end, I'm so glad we got to have that dog. And we loved him very well.