MY BEST FRIENDS
I met Fred & Bud for the first time twelve years ago. As I walked through Paivi’s door for the first time, I was greeted by the enthusiastic barking of two dogs doing their job as this strange new person entered
their home.
Of the two, I got immediate acceptance from the black lab, Bud. He jumped up on my leg. When I crouched down to pet him, I got a kiss straightaway. In essence he was saying, “Hi, I’m Bud! Let’s be friends.” Bud was like that with everyone he met, as I would soon learn.
Fred, the shepherd, was a bit more reserved. Although he was very polite, proper and always nice, it would be a while before he fully accepted me. It was nothing personal, that was just the way Fred was.
The contrast in Fred and Bud’s “personalities” was striking: Bud was pure love. He wanted to love everyone and to be loved. Fred loved people too, but he would take his time and accept them on his own terms. Trust me; once Fred loved you, you knew it.
When taking the dogs for a walk, the contrasts were even more apparent: Fred liked to stop and smell the roses… so to speak. Bud, on the other hand, didn’t want to stop. I think he felt that if he stopped, he might miss something. Bud might take a quick sniff of something if Fred found something intriguing, but it was usually short lived - he was off like a puff of smoke, back on the trail.
There was a street that led up a steep hill behind Paivi’s house. One time, I took Bud up that hill. About three quarters of the way, I was ready to give up. I couldn’t do it any more, I was spent. Bud, on the other hand, didn’t want to stop. And he didn’t. Bud walked me the rest of the way. Had he not been there, I would have turned around and went back home. That was Bud.
Fred was the vigilant watchdog. He would look outside the dog pen to see if any suspicious activity was afoot. If a car pulled over, he would bark to alert us. He would also sit in the chair inside the house and stare at the traffic for quite long periods of time. He was focused and never wavered in his self-appointed duty.
They say that dogs can’t tell time. Well then, maybe someone can explain to me how they always knew when it was time to eat. I can remember sitting at the computer when Bud came to see me. He stared at me. I looked at the clock – it was 5 PM, feeding time. I told him I’d be there in a couple of minutes. As several seconds passed, Bud barked. The message was clear: I want to eat and I want to eat
now.
The dogs would not be denied their dinner. Or anything else, for that matter.
Fred and Bud are both gone now, but I feel privileged and honored to have had them as part of my life for well over a decade. They may be gone, but I have a sneaky suspicion they’re somewhere together, playing and hanging out.
And probably bugging someone for their dinner.
