Baron Buser (June 24, 2008 – September 26, 2023)
It’s with a full heart that I said goodbye to my best friend early last week. He lived his life with enthusiasm and joy. In many ways, he was my hero. A couple of examples include:
- – When he tore his ACL and had TPLO surgery when he was 9 years old, his zest for life didn’t yield. 12 weeks of sleeping on my mattress on my bedroom floor and carrying him up and down three flights of stairs three times a day didn’t deter him.
- When he went completely blind a couple of years ago, his zest for life didn’t yield.
- When he went deaf, his zest for life didn’t yield.
- When he lost his ability to control his bladder and had to wear belly bands, his zest for life didn’t yield.
- When he lost his ability to jump, his zest for life didn’t yield.
- When he moved into a new home when he was 13 years old, blind and deaf, it took all of a week for him to adapt and love all of the new places to walk around and spots where all of his beds were.
Through it all and up until the end, his tail never stopped wagging.
A few things I have long wondered about and since learned…
- For me, having a second dog significantly lessened the loss. While I always knew it would to some extent, having Roman with me to shoulder the grief has been an incredible blessing.
- For me, the gloom of this moment by no means outweighs 15 years of joy. I had wondered if the loss and subsequent sadness would be too intense and if this newfound knowledge would keep me from ever getting another dog. It absolutely will not. I miss having my little family of three and look forward to a day in the near future when I have that again.
- For me, I wondered a lot about the point of Baron’s life since his passing. I’ve concluded that Baron was a gift from God to me. Baron’s innate and unmatched joy of life and love towards me allowed me to live my life in a way that, hopefully, has meaningful, positive impacts on how I treat others in my personal and professional life, towards my friends and strangers.
- For me, I am grateful for the ease with which God made this. Until three years ago, Baron and I matched each other stride for stride. What I did physically, he did physically. Then, for three years, he ever so slowly started to decline. His happiness never wavered, and never was his passing imminent. About a month ago, he slowed down quite a bit. He was sleeping a considerable part of his day, drinking a lot of water, and having minor stomach issues. He got the chicken and rice treatment to reset, which worked. Then, on Sunday, he stopped eating. I offered him every single one of his favorite foods. He wasn’t interested in any of it. Monday night, for the first time in his life, he stopped and sat when we went for a walk. He had no interest. At that point, I knew. On Tuesday, my friend/veterinarian worked me in to have him put down. It was 24 hours of agony, but it was only 24 hours. Baron’s leaving me was so graceful. I miss him, but I am not in the despair that my mind convinced me for the last 2-3 years that I would be in.
Finally, I am incredibly grateful for those closest to me who I connected with after his passing last week. I told friends and family of the news privately that I didn’t need or want anything, didn’t want to be asked how I was holding up, and would bring up the topic of his death if/when I wanted to. Everyone allowed me to grieve the way I needed to grieve. I continue to ask for that space as I process and rebuild.
Enjoy some pictures of Baron, and if you have one, give your dog(s) an extra treat tonight in his memory.
