And just like that, I met a Buddy

We interrupt a week of enticing political gab to talk about real life for a moment.

I have a new friend. His name is Buddy.

And, of course, a story to go with him.

Monday morning, I always look forward to meeting with a certain batch of friends in Spring Hill. I was headed south on U.S. 41 in dense fog around 7:15 when, between Floral City and the Hernando County line, I saw this poor mutt in the road looking as lost as lost can be.

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I slowed but didn’t know what to do. I know people who wouldn’t think twice about helping a lost or injured critter on the road. I admire those people. I am not one of those people. Never in my life have I stopped for a lost dog along the highway, though I’ve certainly passed dozens.

But something about this dog. He was wet from Sunday's rain, and just so damn sad. I could see that in the rearview mirror as I crept by, and he skittered along.

Snap call. I did the U and pulled off to the side. I crouched next to an open passenger door, holding out my arms.

“Hey there buddy…” I coaxed.

He didn’t hesitate. He trotted across the road (yikes!) right toward me. I had to lift him into the car, and off we went.

I called Deb.

“Hi honey. I picked up a stray.”

“A stray what?”

She was asking what kind of dog. Good question. I had no idea. He's bigger than a breadbasket and bulky as a linebacker, with a Beagle-hound look. He’s got a few years on him. I could tell he spends a lot of time outdoors. This was a section of U.S. 41… I’m really not sure I could explain exactly where, and I know that stretch like the back of my hand. So, yeah, woodsy.

(Speaking of that, before we go further, I’m not posting “found dog” posters because I can’t pinpoint where I picked him up. So, you see the photo…if you know someone south of Floral City who lost a dog like that, have him/her drop me a line.)

We came home, and I introduced our new friend to Deb. We took a bowl of water out to the porch, and then realized we had nothing to feed a dog. Spaghetti leftovers wouldn’t suffice. 

I made an immediate decision that at the very least, he would see a veterinarian. This dog, by golly, needed some attention. I could see that. Whether he was returning to his owner, or he had a new address, he was getting some medical care first.

So, yeah, I’m posting at 10 p.m. Monday because a certain dog and I spent a good part of the day getting acquainted. We took a couple of rides in the car together. We spent time with very nice people at the Plantation Animal Clinic in Crystal River.

(I decided not to take him to the animal shelter. I know that’s wrong, and Colleen Yarbrough is going to revoke my “favorite animal blogger” status, but I just couldn’t do it. First off, no chip. The poor thing had been outside alone and scared for at least a day. He needed a home right away.)

The vet’s office gave us a couple cans of dog food and he really went at it, allowing me to hide his medication in there, just as I’ve heard others do.

We took quite a few short walks so he could scope out the choices if you get my drift. 

Paul, my neighbor and friend, stopped by. “You feed him, he’ll follow you home every time,” he said. Paul is brilliant. I never even considered that. This dog’s life to now is clearly without a collar. I’ll get one but would like to avoid the leash. He's not going anywhere.

The dog seems hard of hearing but good on sight and smell. I learned that in one day. He learned I like rock ‘n’ roll in the car.

And I named him. Had to call him something, right? Buddy came to mind. He was sad, with scars and deep sores, a total mess. Reminds me of someone before he was rescued. 

By Monday night, Buddy looked less like a stray and more like the house dog. He already found a great place to rest, and he took long, deep naps.

No clue how this will end. But wow, what a day — for us both.

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