Friday, July 9

One Week Ago Today...

was the last time we saw our family dog, Buckley the black lab. I can't even talk about it. In fact, I don't. Charm City Daddy and I have avoided the subject altogether.

We routinely let him out in our backyard in the mornings and after an hour  the nanny will let him in (if he wants) for his food. Some days he prefers to stay outside for a while and lounge on the grass. He's a lab after all and loves the outdoors and swimming.

Anyway, mid-morning last Friday Charm City Daddy who happened to be working from home answered a ring at the door. It was our neighbor from across the street who tells him that she saw our dog exit the fence from our backyard and trot through our front yard and down the street. It had happened several minutes (NOT seconds) earlier. She had done nothing--didn't call out "Hey puppy!" NOTHING.

Now even with his big-as-day ID collar and microchip, he has not turned up anywhere. Being the super-friendly dog he is doesn't make us feel any better either. He is obviously in the wrong hands one way or another : 1) with a family who has stolen him 2) or with (God forbid) pit bull fighters a prevalent problem in Baltimore. 

Sad doesn't even begin to describe how we feel. Before there was me, Charm City Daddy had Buckley. In fact on our first date he told me he had a puppy that he wanted me to meet (as an attempt to lure me back to his apartment!ha!)

When I was pregnant with Charm City Baby, Buckley always waited for me to go up and down stairs first and once I completely reached the top or bottom of the stairs he would follow. When the baby arrived we never had to worry about getting him adjusted, he just waited patiently, looked at her with concern when she cried, woke up with us in the middle of the night, and kissed Olivia lovingly when she first discovered him and started crawling. He took her abuse as attention and loved every minute of it. That's what I miss the most. Olivia absolutely loves dogs because of him. Once she even tried to put his paw in her mouth.

He was a model too! A friend of ours was running for local office and needed a dog to complete their family pic. Wouldn't you know he looked happy and absolutely perfect! Little traitor. lol. We kept the flyers and laugh about his election loss. He also posed for doggie daycare ads at our vet office.

Buckley was smart and knew so many tricks and directional cues, but along with his well-behaved, friendly, disciplined demeanor also came some timidity.   The historic, but functional shutters on our home freaked him out when wind would move them. Thunder freaked him out. Wind freaked him out. The washing machine freaked him out. Our basement freaked him out. Linoleum floors freaked him out. Aggressive, small dogs often got the best of him.  If you heard a noise in the house he would jump up and his ears would perk up and you'd whisper "Buckley, go check it out" and he'd walk to paces and stop. And then you'd say  "Buckley, what was that? go check it out!" And he'd look back at you like, "me? by myself? And then he'd put his head down and pitifully lay down and avoid eye contact with you. For this and so many other reasons Charm City Daddy and I always joke that if we ever buy a big property one day we'd name it after him and call it "Punk Dog Farm."

Well, that's already more than I wanted to say, but there is something therapeutic about recalling those fond memories.

We love and miss you Buckley.  Come home soon, boy.

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