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Many of you are familiar with our Chocolate Lab, Buckshot. And, I’m so very sad to say that he passed away on Friday, May 4. 

He was just a dog–at least that’s what I keep telling myself. Then how come it hurts so badly now that he’s gone? Why do I keep crying and missing him and feel such a gaping hole in my life?

Buckshot came into our lives over 15 years ago on Valentine’s weekend. He came to us as a slobbery, furry mess of love and left us the same way. For me, he was a vessel for the motherly love I so desperately needed to give because of the void after my son Ryan’s passing. And Buckshot was more than happy to receive all the love I could give and return it in spades.

For most of his life, he was like my shadow. When I’d get up at work, he’d follow, when I did chores at home, he was right by my side. And usually, right in the way. I’d stop and look at him and say, really buddy, is that where you’re going to lay–right in that spot I’m about to vacuum? Early on, he learned what “move” meant. When he was laying on the rug outside the shower I’d say “move” and he’d dutifully move to a different spot where he could still keep an eye on me. He was my little guardian.

The weekend we picked him up from the San Diego area breeder as a 7 week old puppy, we were in a hurry to get our little bundle of love, and John was driving a bit fast. Of course, we were pulled over and as soon as the police officer saw the kennel in the back seat, and all the magazines about Labs on my lap, he looked at us and asked why we were in such a hurry. We excitedly told him that we were going to pick up our Chocolate Lab puppy. Of course, he also had a Lab and shared our excitement for this wonderful breed. And, he sent us on our way with a warning and told us to take the money we saved from the ticket and buy him some toys. Well, that was the start of a wonderful journey.

This adorable puppy with huge feet stretched out on my chest and he and I slept all the way home. Once he got in our house, he walked over and took a big drink of water which interestingly, seems to get caught in all the folds of his jowls and then slops all over the floor as he walks. I thought, “what have we got ourselves into?” Well, I know what it was now. He wasn’t “just a dog”. He was our buddy, our office greeter, our cheerer upper, our comic relief, our little gift from God that never stopped giving.

Buckshot helping as I answer boat plans questions.

Thankfully, John spent many months training Buck when he was little and turned him into a very obedient boy. He heeled when we walked him, never jumped on the bed or furniture and would refrain from eating a steak that was inches from his face. For a guy extremely motivated by food, that took a lot of discipline.

He’s been such a trooper as his body was failing him. For some time now, John and I drug him up and down the stairs, out to do his business, helping him stand while he ate and so on and he resigned himself to this new way of life. But we eventually knew he was done and that was the hardest decision we’ve had to make. I didn’t realize how much our lives revolved around this one goofy guy.

He loves his daddy…

Walking into the office the first morning after he passed was heart breaking. Who will greet the UPS man, or the mailman or the customers that love him? He’s definitely made his mark and will never be gone from our thoughts and hearts. But, there will be a void in our lives as those of you who have lost a beloved pet can certainly attest. We miss you buddy… 

Buckshot Brantuk
December 23, 2002 – May 4, 2018

Our old guy in April 2018

His kissable gray muzzle…

His seat in the car to and from Glen-L every day.

Right behind the seat at my desk, ever keeping watch

Buckshot and his neighbor friend Lily

The face we fell in love with…

In his younger days…

In our younger days…