Buf by Joan Aycock Copyright 2004

Buf Remembered
In Celebration of her Life

Joan Aycock

I remember friends asking how I named Buf.
This was the sound she made when she wanted my attention.

I remember . . .

  • How easy she was to house-train . . . she wanted so to please me.
  • How she would get into running "fits" and run and run around the house and all the furniture.
  • How she would sleep in the bed with me and had to touch me with as much of her body as she could.
  • Her piercing eyes that seemed to see down into my soul.
  • Seeing her "think" about being "bad" before she did it.
  • How busy she was digging up the squirrel's pecans and depositing them on the living room carpeting.
  • Her being so miserable with allergies, and how I would hold her tight and talk, and she would relax.
  • How she would let me do anything but cut her nails.
  • Buf being my alarm clock . . . even on Saturdays.
  • How she showed all of her teeth anytime her temperature was taken.
  • How she flew into the back yard with my stolen hamburger hanging out of both sides of her mouth.
  • Her attacking the water sprinkler and my subsequent fall in the mud trying to stop her.
  • How she would "talk" to me especially when she wanted something with her special sounds she made.
  • How she hated and attacked the lawn mower but was petrified of the vacuum cleaner and would hide.
  • When I was ill, she would sleep on my chest and would view with suspicion those who came to help.
  • Her sweet kisses, which I got on demand.
  • Her hatred for the Black Lab next door, and her "let me at 'em" attitude about him.
  • Her look of pride and confusion when she brought a dead baby squirrel in the house and I yelled at her.
  • Her going through the car wash and how she tried to protect me as the "monster" attacked.
  • Her "pride."
  • Her “happy dance” and begging to go in the car for rides and errands.
  • Her riding in the car with her front paws on the center arm-rest or the window edge and being happy.
  • NOT having my car washed for months after she died, since her nose prints were still on the window.
  • How she would pout when I left her at the groomers.
  • That she would NOT acknowledge my existence and turn her back to me when she was pouty.
  • How quickly she would forgive.
  • Her trips to a fishing camp where she was the entertainment of the Day and kept the Raccoons at bay.
  • Her running so fast she was almost parallel to the ground, and the fur on her face blowing in the wind.
  • Her stalking the squirrel who loved to antagonize her.
  • How intuitive she was about my feelings.
  • How she attacked a male poodle because he sniffed her bottom.
  • Her perching on top of the couch and watching out the front window.
  • Her not greeting me at the back door when she had done something naughty.
  • Her peeing on a friends shoe at the fishing camp.
  • How overjoyed she was whenever we had company.
  • How she loved the fire in the fireplace.
  • How she put her nose up and sniffed the wind when it was blowing.
  • Her acceptance, albeit alpha acceptance, of the dachshund I rescued before he was adopted.
  • How good she was when I had to give her allergy shots to her.
  • Buf going through the Frozen Sno-Ball drive thru and having a bright red face from eating her own.
  • The sad look on her face when I had to leave her.
  • When she decided it was bedtime…and pestered me.
  • Her lying on my chest at night when I was on the couch watching TV.
  • How she would turn on her back and invite a stomach rub.

But most of all I remember a sweet, beautiful, loving little rascal who loved to tease, who was a curious and mischievous friend who loved me unconditionally, and who brought joy into my home and heart.

She was my child, my love, and my constant companion.

I will never forget Buf! She will always be in my heart!

Rest in Peace, my sweet baby girl until we meet again!