Post - Lesson Collective

Dogs are an amazing compliment to human existence. Their companionship is an “added value” to our everyday lives bringing unconditional love and acceptance to any situation. How many times have we had a rough day to only come home to a four-legged friend wagging their tail and ready to show affection by our mere presence? They are stoked and ready for anything if it is with us, their human.

I grew up with dogs and knew that I would eventually have my own canine companion once my life settled into a more stable routine. That happened in 2001 with the adoption of a one-year-old English Yellow Lab named Buddy. His life had started with a young family of four. The two active young boys were always on the go with mom and dad ushering them everywhere for after school activities and sports practices. Buddy didn’t fit into their schedule and was left tied to a dog run for most of his days.

The father was a hunter and dog trainer who had begun training Buddy to be his next bird dog. But as often happens when a family is busy, the pets suffer from a lack of exercise and attention. Being cognizant of this fact, the family knew that their current lifestyle wasn’t fair to an athletic and energetic Buddy. He needed to go to another home that would give him the opportunity to live an active and healthy life rather than one anchored to a pole.

This is where Buddy and my story began. We were together for 12 great years, before an inopportune interaction with two rutting buck deer in a friend’s backyard. Buddy unknowingly walked into trouble and tragically faded from my life. For those who were fortunate to have met him, they know that he was loved by all and was a willing partner for any adventure – whether it be laying at the bottom of a cliff that I was climbing; rafting and swimming rapids; or making his own tracks down 2000’ of fresh powder. He was always up for anything. In fact, he was featured in John Fayhee’s book, Colorado Mountain Dogs.

Maybe someday I will write a book about his escapades. Central to it will be the following lessons he taught me and so many others. I miss him and think about him every day. I look forward to when another four-legged friend enters my life – it will just have to wait until my life is settled once again into a more stable routine.

Greet Everyone with Exuberance

As common with most happy dogs, Buddy approached every encounter with another, whether human or otherwise, with exuberance. Everyone was a potential new friend. It didn’t matter to him what color one was; what side of the political aisle one fell on; what one did for a living; or any other of the various biases and prejudices we hold. He was nondiscriminatory in his judgement and sought only to possibly make a new friend. His full body wag and joyful facial expression attracted the best of others and brought him the attention he sought. Through his enthusiastic approach, he broke down barriers and put others immediately at ease. I know for a fact that he had more friends than I did as Buddy was well known wherever we lived. It was not uncommon for me to meet a human friend of his who always wondered who his owner was. I knew who the popular one was in our relationship.

Service to Others Is Important

Buddy’s intelligence and gentle disposition suited him for a life larger than that of a normal pet. Adding to the initial training by his first owner, he would be trained to serve as a therapy dog and even worked as a service dog for those who were wheelchair bound. Through a program at Hampshire College, he was trained by students to assist others in need. From picking up objects and pulling wheelchairs to just sitting calmly and providing emotional support, Buddy took his duties seriously and enjoyed serving others. He had an innate ability to realize when people needed support and then work to provide whatever was needed whether it be a formalized task such as picking up a dropped item or just a nuzzle of the one’s hand to let them know everything would be okay.

Always Be Up for an Adventure

As previously stated, I could never escape the house without Buddy standing by the doorway wagging his tail and wondering where we were heading. No matter his condition, he wasn’t going to be left out of the potential for fun. On one occasion, I just brought him home from a visit to his vet where he had been put under to receive some stitches (his life of adventure provided some scars along the way). Dozing in his bed with one eye trained on me, he saw me reaching for my climbing pack and other gear. Before I had gotten to the door, I heard him stumbling from the effects of anesthesia down the hall towards the door. Not content to be left home, he rallied through a foggy haze to join the fun. Consequently, I carried his 80 pounds to the truck and then to the base of the climbing area. For the rest of the afternoon, he laid in his crag bed watching me and my partner ascend overhead. By the time we left, he was mobile once again to move on his own power back to the truck. It didn’t matter the situation or the weather conditions, I could always count on Buddy to be a willing and steadfast partner.

Stay Calm

Perhaps it was the amount of time we spent together and his training, but Buddy was always cool under pressure. Absolute chaos could be going on around him, and he would appear relaxed – just observing and taking in the situation. This trait is what made him good with people, especially kids. Nothing fazed him. His ability to trust those around him was also key to his ability to stay calm. In times of trepidation, I would catch him watching me and how I reacted to what was happening. If I calmly commanded him to do a task such as swim across a strong river current or jump onto a steep ledge with significant exposure, he would do so without hesitation. I could count on him to not panic and not make an already stressful situation even more so.

Live in the Present

Maybe it is the gift of being something other than a human, but as far as I can tell animals truly live moment to moment. Their attention is focused on what is happening in the here and now – not the past or the future. Buddy embodied this gift and was my teacher for learning this important lesson. After being disciplined or scolded, he may have appeared embarrassed or ashamed of his actions. But with each passing moment, what happened previously would fade away to be replaced by his happy and pleasing nature. His mistakes were short lived. He didn’t dwell on what had been done or worry about what would come. He was fully engaged with what was happening around him.

On Occasion It’s Okay to Overindulge

Labrador retrievers are known to be food motivated. It was no different with “Budzilla,” – my name for him when he would take his own calorie well-being into account. This would often come in the form of jumping on the counter to grab a loaf of bread off the top of the refrigerator or opening his or others Christmas gifts to eat the wrapped treats. On one overindulgence, I came home to find him lying on the kitchen floor in a dazed, but dreamy stupor. The way his eyes seemingly grinned at me accompanied by the slow thumping of his tail on the tile indicated that he was content in the moment. Moving around the kitchen island I found the source of his bliss. The six pound tray of chocolate brownies my dad had purchased earlier that day was opened and on the floor. Four pounds had been consumed.

Given the effects chocolate can have on dogs, I was immediately worried about what Budzilla had done to himself. After a quick call to his vet, I was instructed to keep an eye on him and get him into the clinic if he started acting out of the ordinary. Other than not wanting any dinner and just content to lay in his bed, he was his normal self. As with any overindulgence, there is usually a price to pay for all the fun that was had. Budzilla enjoyed his brownies but paid for their consumption a couple hours later when he threw up the great tasting chocolate goodness all over the back deck. Poor Budzilla.

Be Reliable

This final lesson is the essence of Buddy and is what made him a steadfast companion. His pleasing demeanor was always consistent. I didn’t ever have to worry about him being erratic or aggressive towards other creatures or humans. This made it easy to find people to look after him while I was away. He was easy going with a mischievous side when it came to food. You could count on him to never want to be left behind and to follow commands when directed. His consistent behavior was the key to the adventure life he lived affording him many experiences that few four-legged friends, let alone humans, get to experience.

Buddy was reliable in both his demeanor and his ability to show up. In this current age where reliability in friends, leaders, businesses and the products we buy seems to be eroding away, Buddy’s example carries more weight and meaning. I miss his steadfastness. It was comforting to know that he would be by my side no matter what life presented to both of us. As most pet owners would say, our nonhuman companions add value to our lives. Buddy provided so many moments of love, awe, and amusement that I would not have experienced without his presence.

I miss you, Bud.