I was a little girl when my parents got a German Shepard. I don't remember how old I was, but I know I was very little. His original name was Bubba, but my parents did not like the name and renamed him, giving him the name Buck. He was such a kind and sweet dog. Very gentle, he was very protective and loved to play. You could throw a ball for him until he decided he didn't want to play anymore, that is when you knew he was getting tired and wanted to move on to the next task of playing or he just wanted to lay down and nap.
When I was little I used to ride him, he was a big dog compared to my tiny self and he would let me. I'd like to say I was his personal stylist because I would cut his hair giving him the freshest new look and I was very proud of myself. He had this certain spot where he would run in circles in the front yard. He ran in same spot over and over again, until it started to make a nice circle in the ground. If you started to run, he would run after you. He had a black line that ran right in the middle of his tongue. You could always see it. There was never a moment when his tongue was not hanging out of his mouth or he was coming up to give you kisses. I loved him so much. Every time I would pet him, I would always find this spot on his belly where he loved to be scratched, he went nuts when I did it.
He never liked thunderstorms, he would always bark and sometimes whine due to the storm, especially when it would thunder really loud.The summers in Salt Lake City were very hot and on a nice hot day we would turn the sprinklers on and run through them. Buck would always try to catch all of the water in his mouth taking up most of the sprinkler time. We would take trips to Bear Lake in the summer and he loved running along the lake side and on the beach.
You could say Buck was a free spirit, always having so much energy. He also had his stubborn side. He never liked taking medicine and so when we needed to give him his medicine, we would coat it in butter and stick it right down his throat so he would have to swallow it.
As the years went by, I loved him more and more. I knew that he was getting older and the thought of losing him was heart breaking. He was a part of the family, my best friend, and I never wanted to lose him.
In July 2006, my parents divorced and my dad, brother, Buck and I moved to Missouri. The drive was tough on Buck. He was stuck sitting on the floor of the moving truck. He was getting to the point where it was hurting him to move and get out of the truck. He was about 10 or 11 years old by this time. We finally made it to Missouri and you could tell the drive took a toll on him.
It was a couple of days after my brother and I started at our new elementary school when we found out Buck died. It was heartbreaking. He was my protector, my best friend and I did not know what I would do without him. He was very loved and I would say sometimes very spoiled. I will always remember him and how he was my friend, my protector. I am sure he is up there in dog heaven running in his circles and watching over me.
