Buffy "from the Block" (Rescued 1/7/2004 - 1/20/2016).

My girl. 

Do you believe in serendipity? 

My Shelties made me a believer.  Twice over, in fact. I don't know how or why I am positively certain that the death of my Dylan was the catalyst for bringing Henry into our lives. Simply, I still can't believe we found him, and I don't believe it was by chance. But, that story deserves its own place among these pages. 

For all the same reasons I believe fate led us to Henry, those same reasons led me to find Buffy.   Yes, she's not an agility dog. She could've been, without a doubt.  Her story is important, though, in the context of all things Henry.  

A year and a half after my backyard-bred Dylan managed to convert me to the ways of all things Sheltie, the same relationship which caused me to find Dylan, crumbled.  Although at the time I knew the breakup was a good thing, the pain of losing a constant -- a familiar person in a familiar way of life with familiar friends (who undoubtedly took sides) -- threw me into unfamiliar territory.  Dylan was mine from the beginning, and there were no fights over him.  He was mine until the end.  

I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was a Monday.  January 5, 2004, to be exact.  The very first Monday of a new year, and the very first Monday that my life consisted of just me and Dylan.  On our own.  The drive from downtown to the 'burbs on my way home from work led to an abrupt and sudden detour from the interstate, onto an exit ramp, and into the parking lot of the Maryland SPCA. I sat in the parking lot not really having a clue as to what I was doing.  Or why. Or how I ended up there. And this is the honest truth.  I spoke the words:  "If there's a Sheltie in there, it's a sign."

Keep in mind, the Maryland SPCA isn't known for pure-bred dogs. When visiting an urban rescue, you're apt to find a large majority of pit bulls and other mixed breeds. The odds of finding a pure-bred Sheltie there? Well, they're about the same as winning the jackpot in the lottery. 

Almost blindly, I walked through the runs.  Sad eyes stared at me, but none spoke to me.  What was I doing here? Run after run, dog after dog, I sighed and maneuvered myself through the last run toward the door.  At the corner, I turned and in this last run sat a little sable and white Sheltie girl.  Huddled in the corner.  Were my eyes deceiving me? She LOOKED like a Sheltie.  She had to be a Sheltie.  I knelt down,entranced, and whispered to her softly.  Tiny.  Emaciated.  She came to my hand (this was back in the day when the front of the SPCA's runs were enclosed in cage-like steel than the present day plexiglass). The minute she put her nose to my hand, there was no hesitation. I grabbed the card to her run and decided that she was mine. 

Adopting a dog from the SPCA is first-come, first-served. Unbeknownst to me, I grabbed the card claiming her only seconds before another couple attempted to do the same.  When I went to talk to the adoption staff, they advised me that she was a "problem" dog.  You see, she had a "pee pee" problem. And she barked. A lot.  I told the woman I could handle her.  I told her that I "knew" Shelties.

I couldn't bring her home that night because she'd not yet been spayed.  "Tomorrow," they said, "She's scheduled for surgery. You can pick her up on Wednesday."  And, so I did. 

This little dog tugged at my heart that before I even knew it, I loved her.  That's not to say we didn't have our challenges. We did, after all, have to work through the "pee pee" problem, separation anxiety, and all around high-strung nervous behavior.  And, she clearly had been abused and/or neglected by her former owner.  Trust was a concept she didn't quite understand, but her years with me (and Jen and Dylan) were healing.  Eventually though, Buffy, Dylan and I became the "Three Musketeers," and then we became four.   Over the next twelve years, we'd never want for great adventures.  

Sitting here through glassy eyes, I'm transported back to when, shortly after she died, I wrote the following list.   In reality, I could've filled countless pages with our tales (or is it tails?).  Although I rescued her that Monday, the way life turned out, it seems she rescued me and Dylan as well. 

Without further adieu:

19 Wonderful things (you probably didn't know) about Buffy:

1. She was NOT an agility dog.  In retrospect, she would've been awesome at the sport.  She was smart and actually taught Henry not to be afraid of an agility jump, when she'd never even seen a jump herself.

2. My theory on her was that she was a puppy mill puppy that someone bought and kept until s/he realized a puppy was a real responsibility. She wasn't well cared-for, and when I got her at 1.3 years of age, she was emaciated at 9 pounds and had a few cuts on her.

3. She was feisty but the biggest love bug in the world. She gave "Buffy Hugs" to where she'd just come over and lean her head into you. When you held her, she'd nuzzle her little head under your neck. 

4. She loved spewing profanity (with the "f bomb" being her favorite word), and if she were human she'd have been a Jack Daniels' drinking, Harley Davidson riding "tell it like it is" kind of girl. Consequently, she had several Harley Davidsons in the form of Christmas Tree ornaments and a Harley Davidson charm on her collar. (And no, I don't own a motorcycle).

5. She worshipped the sun. Even on cold winter days she'd find the lone sun beam shining in the window and go lay in its path. Although her preference would be the beach. She especially liked the Outer Banks and the Isle of Palms. When not in the sand, she'd be content to lay atop a raft in a pool. See photo below.

After having surgery to remove a lipoma, Buffy used her cone of shame to channel the "mother ship."

6. Up until his death, she never lived a day in my care without Dylan.  She immediately fell in love with Henry -- who was the best medicine ever for a 13 1/2 year old dog with cancer.  She played with him, often initiating it.  In those last four months of her life with Henry, she was practically a puppy again.

A very proud big sister!  Photo Credit: Brad Barnwell.

7.  She had a Latina alter-ego.  With a Jennifer Lopez like badunkadunk and a fiery personality, she would often refer to herself as Conchita Lupita Consuela Hernandez Gonzales.  Harkening back to Jennifer Lopez, we just called her "Buffy from the Block," because with such a vivid imagination she also claimed she was originally from the Bronx and that her short three day stint at the Maryland SPCA was, in reality, "doing hard time in the big house."

8.  Her office was the floor of our master bathroom stand up shower.  She'd go in there and lay when she wanted her own space.  Jen and I often thought that she was secretly planning her takeover of the Jack Daniels distillery. 

9. Her taste in music ran the gamut.  She loved Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, and Metallica. (Dylan was a Barry Manilow kind of guy). 

10.  She was more well-travelled than most people's children -- having been to New England (Vermont, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Maine), Savannah, Charleston, Outer Banks, Asheville, New York City, among other places.

11.  She participated in a Canine Cancer Vaccine Clinical Trial funded by Yale (which led us to Connecticut...which led us to Henry -- see? Serendipity).  The goal of the the study, which consisted of 4 visits over 56 days, was to use the dog's own white blood cells to make certain proteins to attack cancer cells.  Why not? A 4 hour drive which may save my dog and may help cancer someday? I was game...through this, I developed a good rapport with the Veterinary Cancer Center in Norwalk (and I'd drive there again in a heartbeat if my dogs ever encountered cancer, because that facility is a class act).  Buffy made the antibodies.  After the study ended and shortly before she died, on our own initiative we asked the VCC if we could send more blood (drawn according to their protocol) at our own cost (who knew sending medical stuff via UPS was SO expensive!) to see if she was still producing the antibodies.   She was.  Up until the day she died (which wasn't from the cancer, ironically).   A little known fact is that we let her believe the vaccine was actually called "The Buffy Vaccine." (As an aside, canine cancer is a topic about which I've become very passionate.)

12.  At the age of 13, she became clicker trained.  She saw Henry getting treats when we marked his good behavior, so she started offering behavior as well.  Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

13.  She chose her name.  The SPCA called her "Spice," but that didn't seem to fit her personality.  I had no idea what to call her and after trying different names, I happened to be flipping through the television channels when Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on.  I mentioned the word "Buffy" and she cocked her head. Done.  And it fit.  She was cute, but could kick butt if the occasion so arose.  

Smiling on the beach.  4 days before she died. 

14. She was a carb junkie. If you were to slice a baguette from Wegmans she'd come running as if she'd won the lottery.  Cheese was a close second, but bread, bread was her favorite. 

15.  She had her golden spot at the corner of the sofa.  If Dylan were laying there, she'd come over and position herself on top of him, as if she were his blanket. She'd do this smiling -- with a big toothy grin -- because she knew she'd get the better of him and make him move, which he always begrudgingly did. That was HER spot and she wasn't letting anyone take it. From that spot, she'd snuggle with my feet on football Sundays. 

16.  If she liked you and you stopped petting her, you'd get a rude awakening in the form of a head bump.  The stopping of the petting was only appropriate when she said she was done with you.

17.  She never liked to be without her collar on -- perhaps reminiscent of the day she was abandoned by whatever family she had and left at the SPCA. If you took it off of her to brush her or give her a bath, she seemed lost. When you held up the collar to put it back on her, she'd run toward you with enthusiasm.  A collar was to her what a security blanket was to Linus (of Peanuts' fame).

18.  Her favorite Ravens player was Terrell Suggs.  His nickname in these parts is "T Sizzle."  Thus, on Sundays, she was "B Sizzle." 

19. She died of a seizure, which we (our veterinarian and us), do not believe was related to the cancer.  After having the tumor removed by a veterinary ear/nose/throat surgeon, and after metronomic chemotherapy, we observed no outward signs of the cancer.  She did, however, have many other issues (liver, kidneys, etc.).  Like Dylan, she took the decision out of our hands, and I'm convinced she wanted it that way.  I'm thinking she knew we had Henry to look after us.  That the cancer didn't get her, well, I consider that a victory.

Those eyes!

Buffy and Henry: partners in crime. Photo Credit: Brad Barnwell