ass backwards – a buffi tribute

well, my streak’s still in tact…

…which is a good and bad thing all at the same time. lil’ dude has an eight ball as a dog tag. why? ’cause he’s THAT gangsta? far from – it’s because he’s the eighth dog i’ve had in my life. the first was an irish setter named brandy – she was picked out by my dad, named by my dad, and given to me. not really MY dog in the purest sense, but an okay girl none the less. not as cool as copper, but kinda cool. anywho, when she got older she started to develop bad hips and had to be put down…i had just gotten to the size where i could heft some weight, so mom had me carry her into the vet and place her on the counter. that was the last time i saw her. they asked mom, “do you want us to dispose of the body?” and she said, “yeah – that would be good”.

all i could picture was trash heap with my dog on top of it. horrifying image for a younger kid, let me tell you.

so, ever since i’ve really hoped and prayed that i wouldn’t have to go have a dog put down – and typically, when i see they’re suffering and decide to do it the dogs pass on the night BEFORE the appointment. julie did it in august of 2001, the friday night before she was to go in for that “final” visit. calum did it in 2007.

and buffi did it in the wee hours of this morning. she’s now laid to rest in the “garden of the girls”, where julie and tish are buried. for the first time in a LONG time she’s the youngest in the room, as tish went out at age eighteen and julie at almost sixteen – buff would have been twelve in february.

the reason i called this bit “ass backwards” is because TYPICALLY somebody dies, you have a moment of silence, and then you dig a hole. i knew i would be doing all this, and planned her tribute as a sunday sixer – but she didn’t pass on sunday. quite the contrary, on very little food or water she still got up on all fours and greeted me at the gate when i got home sunday…and i forgot to do another bit in the sunday place, so that was our little memorial “moment of silence”. i was so sure of what i’d come home to that i borrowed a shovel from a friend to use and started on that when i came home monday and could see she was suffering and that tuesday i’d have to take her for that “final” appointment, so i started digging till it got too dark. finished this morning after i woke up and found she had, like most others before her, taken care of things on her own.

so, as i would do on sunday, here’s the buff sixer – some good, some bad, but it’s who she was…

1. what’s in a name? – i found her at the town lake animal shelter on easter sunday, 1999, after calum had gotten all heartbroken because the demise of MY relationship with a girl meant the demise of his with her dog. turns out a vet student from the shelter had taken buff on as a special project, ridding her of mange AND fixing her at her place. i figured while she had her at home for a couple weeks she had to have called her SOMETHING, and when we were taking her back to the house my friend who was driving said the name “buffy” when we were trying to come up with names and she looked up when he said it. i figured that was what the vet student must have called her, and with her being a blond it just stuck.

2. the first death, part i – i remember the date on this one, too…it was may 2nd of 1999. i remember this ’cause the night before was my buddy (at the time) steven’s birthday and we went to see lenny kravitz & the black crowes for his birthday. the next morning when i got up buff had made her first kill – my couch. tore an entire section apart and de-stuffed it. this was the end of her sleeping on the couch (which had only came about ’cause the alarm would freak her out in the morning and she’d jump up and down on my head when she slept with me) and the start of the sleeping with calum. that stayed in place till he started to get sick…

3. destructo pup – dog toys, my shoes, CD’s, shirts, etc, etc fell victim to buff’s rage so i nicknamed her “destructo pup” – not a lot of you probably knew that. the couch was the biggest victim, but was almost eclipsed by the house the couch was in. not only did she tear through the drywall in the utility room, sometimes getting dangerously close to electrical wires, but she once chewed the gas lines that fed the water heater – that’s why it’s now wrapped in hardware cloth. i came home and heard the hissing. had to get them out, air out the house, shut off the gas, replace the hose, etc. yeah – she almost blew us the fuck up.

4. who’s the bitch now? (part i) – me and calum used to play fetch a LOT. you wouldn’t know looking at him, but he was VERY careful with every toy he ever had. used to be very tender with them. then came buff – she hated squeak toys and used to rip the squeakers out of ALL of them. then we tried to play fetch he would run after the toy, turn to run back, and she’d tackle him and slow him down so he couldn’t run at me. eventually he just stopped trying. totally killed fetch. she was kind of a bitch like that…literally AND figuratively.

5. who’s the bitch now (part ii) – when his liver started to fail and he was getting weak and not eating buff bullied calum away from the food and hogged it. i had to separate them and put him in my room to get any food in him at all. he used to walk in the carport door and buff would jump up on the gate and whine and howl at him as he walked in wanting attention from him. he wouldn’t even turn around and look at her – he just kept walking. then thursday night he walked in and she jumped up as usual but was quiet. he waked straight over to the gate, touched his nose to hers, and sat down. wouldn’t move. i opened the gate and he walked in and curled up with her. they slept together that night. the next morning i went to put them out and SHE went out back. he waited for me to let him out front. when he walked in that day she was quiet and didn’t even jump up on the gate…he died at 5:55am the next day in my arms.

6. not all bad = my favorite buff story would either be her hopping lap to lap amongst all the sundance records crew at one of the early (1999) juneteenth bbq’s like a stripper trying to make quota (she was only four months old at the time) or the silencer story. see, there used to be this old man that lived behind me and he once dogsat for his kid’s dog. that little fucker would bark all night. after three nights of NO sleep on my end i walked out into the utility room (this was in the pre-copper days), opened the door to the backyard, pointed in the direction of the noise, and said “FIX THAT!”. calum ran over, barked and snarled at the dog, it got quiet, and he trotted back towards the house. no sooner did he cross the threshold and the little shit started back up again. buff got up, calmly walked over to the fence line, and started madly digging, i can only imagine popping her head out on the other side where the little yipper was and biting him directly ’cause he started to “yipe! yipe! yipe!” all the way back to his doghouse near the porch and we never heard another noise out of him. buff just calmly strolled back in with this air about her that said, “yeah, that’s how you do it”.

buff, i never stopped loving you – even when i didn’t like you very much. you will be missed.

buffi mccauley
feb 14, 1999 – nov 16, 2010