A Special Friend. A True Buddy. Not a lot of those out there.

 

 

First, I want to offer a special thank you to the folks at the Emergency veterinary clinic in Jacksonville (NC), to the caring staff at Onslow Animal Hospital, and to the special caregivers at the School of Veterinary Medicine at North Carolina State University.

Monday morning, as I was leaving for my morning talk radio gig, I didn't find one of our two dogs, SCUBA Dood, in his usual bed. Inside, where it’s warm. We have a special area complete with a doggie door to allow both of our dogs access to a fenced-in back yard. It gives them the chance to safely explore, when they want, and to find an outdoor corner when nature calls. SCUBA was lying on the ground, on his side, cold, wet. He was having what we later learned was a seizure. My wife, Robie, headed for the emergency clinic with our “child”, wrapped in towels to keep him warm. They stabilized SCUBA, and brought his body temperature…which had fallen to 90-degrees…back up.

 

(In case you're wondering about this strange name for a dog-SCUBA Dood- allow me to explain. You see, I have been an avid SCUBA diver since the mid-1960's, and have spent hundreds of hours underwater. When my bride-to-be, Robie, back in 2005 thought I needed a companion, I never would have thought I could become as hooked on a critter as I did with this little puppy, a puppy I named SCUBA Dood. Simply because I wanted a name that was as special and unique as he was).  

 

 

 

At our regular vet, Onslow Animal Hospital, they jumped on the case as soon as the door opened Monday morning. After a variety of tests, the vet said we needed a specialist, and sent us to NC State University's Veterinary School. Thank goodness there was not a lot of traffic, and I made the 125 mile trip in short order. The team went to work even before I could get my truck parked. There's something really special about people who provide medical care for our pets.

Unfortunately, the news is not so good for SCUBA. It appears that he has cancer, we learn late in the day. Something we could not have foreseen. In fact, he got a clean bill of health during his regular annual check in January, just a month before. Less than 24 hours earlier, on Sunday evening, he was running, playing, being his usual loving, comical self. An 8-year old miniature schnauzer with more personality than most people I know. And, more love than in all of the love story movies ever made. SCUBA's outgoing personality was infectious. No one could not like SCUBA.

It makes no difference what kind of mood I'm in, how tired I am, how tough the day has been, how difficult that humans have been. Makes no difference whether my boss was a troll or is a great guy. SCUBA was always at the door, barking, his little stub of a tail gyrating at about 100 WPS (Wags Per Second). And, when I opened the door, he'd come a runnin'. Those two front paws would soon be forcefully planted on my leg, begging...no, demanding...that I stop everything, put all issues on a back burner, and pet him. A request that was impossible to ignore, even if I had wanted to. An absolute pleasure to be around, this dog called SCUBA Dood.

Unfortunately, in spite of all of the care at all levels, the disease was too much. We have a void in our family today. We have memories, and I/we are better off to have experienced the love and companionship of one heckuva dog.
 
In closing, I want to remind all of us. Take the time to reach out to your loved ones, four legs or two. Take the time to talk with them, to listen to them, to love them. All too soon, it comes to an end.

 

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