Bucky Memorial

Bucky came to us in the summer of 1999, just after bone cancer had claimed our greyhound, Misty. Bucky was 18 months old and long and lean; much like a cartoon fish, a straight line head on, yet a complete dog in side view. Her jet black head didn't match the rest of her body where brown puppy fuzz still poked thru her new, very shiny black coat. The puppy fuzz eventually faded.

She could disappear in the dark where only her grin, all bright white teeth and pink tongue, gave her away. No varmint in the backyard was safe. She was quite the hunter and only the fastest and smartest squirrels and possums have survived. She raced big trucks as they rumbled down Independence Parkway, easily beating them to the end of the fence; a black streak going across the yard if you happened to look up at just the right second.

I don't remember when the white hairs on her face finally overtook the black. It was so very gradual; so very distinguished for such a comical soul. Every evening when Kim and I got home from work, she would race around the living room, coming to rest on the couch, only to go flying around the room again at the slightest glance from one of us; her chin quivering with excitement.

She started limping in early November 2005. I assumed she had sprained her leg in one of her wild flights, but the x-ray showed bone cancer. So unfair, she was approaching her 8th birthday and we had assumed she would be with us for much longer. A series of radiation treatments ended around Thanksgiving and kept her on all fours for several more months, but the limp eventually returned. Pain medication helped initially, but she used that leg less and less. The swelling on the bone was visible. I took her to Dr. Ellis on Tuesday of last week to have her euthanized.