Monday, November 29, 2010
Tail # 2: Buford
Therefore, after their connection four puppies popped out of my parent’s very uncomfortable Chihuahua. By the time, they we were ready to find homes for her puppies they were already as large as their mama. They were even picking on her so bad we had to separate them.
We found homes for all the puppies and had really put them out of our minds until one day one came back. They had called him Buford and he was already looked like a pit bull even though he was much too small to be one.
He took to me and I loved the little dog to death. He became my first dog that I could call mine. I have only had three dogs, that I have called mine over the years.
He was not a normal Chihuahua and he was not a bulldog. He did not like to sleep with me; he preferred to sleep at the foot of the bed. He liked to play with a rope. As seen in videos involving pit bulls with jaws locked onto ropes and being spun around in the air. He liked to fetch, but wouldn’t let go of the ball, rope or newspaper when he returned, he would wait until we were both dizzy from being spun around.
Once, my mother caught my attention and told me that a car had hit him. He was a tough dog. This was not the first time he had his body bloodied by a car. He did not learn to stay out of the road until his mouth was deformed. Teeth shot out in different directions. He was an ugly dog, but he was my friend and had heart.
When I went off to college he stayed home, he would watch for me on Fridays. Dad was never sure how the dog could tell that it was Friday and I would be coming, but the dog just knew. He would sit in the window and wait for me to get home.
He met his end in 1992 when he took sick from what turned out to be a terrible mistake; he had eaten dog food that had been poisoned. I swore never to get that attached to another animal again. That only lasted about three years, however that would be another tale about a different tail.