A Story About Buddy: The Dog I Was Meant To Find, Love, and Keep

Over the last ten years, I have ventured out to the woods more times than I can count. I usually go with a purpose; to hunt, hike, look for morels, and sometimes, just to decompress and get away from the daily grind. I feel like each and every time I walk back out of the woods, I have gained something. Some days that may be a few squirrels or some deer meat for the freezer, or maybe some great photos, other days it might just be some much needed clarity. But I don't think I will ever top what I walked out of the woods with on May 1st, 2021.

It was the last full day of a four-day hunting camp that I had organized for a group of new hunters and a few folks who simply wanted to learn more about the hunting culture. This was a work trip that so far, in my mind, had been successful. 

I was out for a late afternoon sit with one of our guests, August, who was turkey hunting for the first time. We didn't go too far from our base camp, which was Spring Valley Ranch, a nice retreat-type facility, that hosted us for the weekend. We figured since it was an evening hunt, and the birds had been scarce, we would just stay close, rather than venturing way down deep into the Spavinaw Wildlife Management Area, like we had that morning. 

We had a general spot picked out, but we still needed to decide where to set up my little mini blind and place a couple of decoys. We had been told that there were a few roost trees nearby, so we chose a place that we thought maybe the turkeys might pass through on the way back to the roost that evening. 

Our view after getting all set up.

I had August get settled in front of a huge oak tree, while I placed the decoys around twenty-five yards out in front of us. I walked back to where August was sitting and proceeded to set up the blind around us. I gave them their shotgun shells and and reminded them of a few safety items that we had went over in class, the day before. They loaded the shotgun, made sure it was on safe, and made sure they had a good line on the decoys. 

Since August is a right-handed/right eye dominant shooter, I sat to the left of them, making sure that I was concealed by the blind. I got my box call out, thinking I would let out a call, just in case there were any turkeys in the area that wanted to pay us a visit. Right after letting out a few yelps, I immediately heard the dry leaves wrestling over my left shoulder. Anytime you are hunting and you hear something behind you, the last thing you want to do is make a sudden movement or swing your head around and look, but since we had JUST sat down, I knew it wasn't a turkey creeping up on us. I never imagined what it WOULD be though, when I turned my head.

I couldn't immediately make out what animal was that was walking toward us, but I could tell it was really small and not moving too fast. Whatever it was, it was brown in color and blending in with the leaf litter, leaving me squinting while trying to identify it. As soon as it stopped, at roughly fifteen yards from where we were sitting, it turned in a circled three times and collapsed, I knew. It was a puppy. 

I told August that a puppy had just fallen over not far from our blind and they immediately said, "A what?". When I repeated that I thought it was a puppy, they were as shocked as I was. I turned to August and told them that I knew this was their hunt and their trip, and I didn't want to ruin that, but I had to get up and go check on this dog that had just fallen over a few feet from our blind. They didn't hesitate to tell me to go get the dog.

I stood up and slowly walked over to where the dog was laying, trying not to scare it, and when I got a good look at him, my heart instantly broke into a million pieces. This tiny animal just laid there, too weak to raise it's head, but looking right at me while wagging the very tip of it's tail. I yelled back to August that I thought the dog was dying right in front of me. I squatted down whispering "Hey Buddy, what are you doing out here all alone?", while carefully reaching for him, hoping I wouldn't get bit. After I felt like it was safe to do so, I picked the little dog up and immediately felt sick to my stomach. He was nothing but bones and sagging skin, covered in what looked like hundreds of ticks and filth. 

Once I had him up off the ground, he just laid limp in my arms, but looking me square in the eyes the whole time. I carried him back over to the turkey blind and sat him down in front of us. August took the lid off of their water bottle and poured some water into it, hoping the little guy would drink. He wouldn't. I knew we needed to get him back to where we were staying to find him something to eat and try to get him to drink again, so after making sure August was okay with ending their hunt before it ever really got started, we unloaded the shotgun and headed back to my truck, leaving my blind and decoys right where I set them up. 

A few minutes after finding the dog, trying to get him to drink some water.

Once back to Spring Valley Ranch, I went into the kitchen and asked the folks who were cooking the meals for our camp if they had anything I cold feed a puppy that I just found in the woods. After flashing me a surprised look, they told me there was some chips I could give him, if he would eat them. I ended up taking some cheese slices with me too, because what dog doesn't love cheese? I broke the chips up and gave him only a few little pieces at a time, same with the cheese. I didn't want him to devour a bunch of food and then get sick from it. It was pretty obvious, based on his bones protruding all over his body that he hadn't been eating much of anything for a long time. 

He sat on my lap and ate each little piece of cheese I broke off for him, tasting none of it, I'm sure. Then, he stopped. He looked up at me, reached up and licked my face, and then leaned back on my chest, as if he just needed to rest for a minute. So I let him rest. A few minutes later, he was ready for more to eat. Again, I didn't give him much, because I was worried about upsetting his stomach, especially given the fact that he was eating corn chips and processed cheese. 

Taking a break from some cheese to show his appreciation.

August and I then started looking for a way to contain the dog, so we could go back out and try to salvage the rest of the evening hunt. We went into a small storage shed and rummaged around until we found an old, purple Rubbermaid tote. We figured that it was deep enough that the little guy couldn't jump out of it, and honestly, I didn't figure he would've had the energy to do so anyway. I grabbed the towels out of my truck that I was using for seat covers and placed them in the bottom of the tote so he had something soft to lay on. Then we cut the bottom out of a plastic water bottle and put it at one end of the tote, so he had some water to drink. 

Neither August nor myself really wanted to go back out to hunt, but I was there to do my job, and August had paid good money on travel and a non-resident hunting license, so I was going to take them back to the woods and make an effort to get them on a bird. We went back out, sat back down in the blind, loaded the shotgun again, and gave it all of about forty five minutes before admitting to each other that we just wanted to go back to the dog. So, we packed everything up and called it done. Neither one of us could focus on hunting, and we probably knew that before we ever went back out there.

The little dog was still in the purple tote when we got back, which was a huge relief for both of us. Alfred, the manager of the property, was all too familiar with stray dogs showing up at Spring Valley, or seeing them out in the wildlife management area. He said that Spavinaw was a notorious dumping ground for dogs. He believed that people would regularly take the access road to the very back of the property and dump dogs of all shapes and sizes, leaving them to fend for themselves. He imagined the same was true for this dog.

He stayed right where we left him.

And I should mention, there was already a stray at camp the first day we arrived, which was Thursday. That dog was a larger mixed breed, also skinny as a rail and very skittish around people. Well, skittish until we all started feeding her, then she warmed right up to everyone. Someone else at camp that weekend mentioned that they had seen two other small dogs, neither looking like the one that found August and I, but they only saw them once and then they disappeared. 

Alfred went to his house, which was nearby, and soon returned with a small container of dog food and a flea and tick chewable pill that he just happened to have on hand, for a tiny little dog that he and his family owned. He said the weight requirements were probably right in line with what this little guy needed. I was hesitant at first to give the dog the pill, just because he was so weak and had very little food in his system. But after weighing our options, and looking at the dog laying in the tote with zero energy, I knew we had to take the chance to try to get the ticks that were sucking the life clean out of him, off of him, and as soon as possible. This pill was either going to kill him or save him, and I hoped for the best while I sat there and watched him chew it up and swallow it.

We had brisket for dinner that night, and if you are wondering if I saved some for the dog, the answer is yes, I absolutely did. The staff all had our own rooms, and I didn't even think to ask before I carried that purple Rubbermaid tote right over to my room and straight inside. I spent the next hour or so watching that little dog cautiously walk around the room, sniffing, investigating, and checking every few seconds if I was still there. He shook constantly. I imagine it was due to the combination of hunger, exhaustion, and being scared. I talked to him to try to make him more comfortable, I fed him little bits of brisket and dog food, off and on, and made sure he was drinking some water. 

I put the tote right next to my bed, knowing darn good and well that there was a possibility that he may not make it through the night. He was eating and drinking, but he just didn't look good. I got into bed, still trying to figure out what had happened that evening, and what I was going to do with this dog. My partner, Chance, made it very clear on an earlier phone call that evening that keeping him was out of the question. I agreed, but only because we already had two Catahoulas, which are fairly good sized dogs, living in the house, and one of them simply doesn't like other dogs. Plain and simple, I was afraid this little dog would be eaten by Ady and Teddy.

Getting ready for bed.

Throughout the night, I would roll over and shine the light from my phone down into the purple tote, to check on the dog. I truly never knew if he was going to be alive or not, but each time, he would open his eyes and look up at me. This little guy was a fighter, no question. The area of Oklahoma we were in had black bears, coyotes, bobcats, eagles, hawks, and I imagine a handful of other wildlife that could have easily caused the demise of this tiny little brown dog. But somehow, someway, he didn't let it happen.  

Sunday morning, I had a responsibility to take my new hunter back out to try again for a turkey. This would be our last hunt of the weekend, so we were going no matter what. I took the dog outside to try to use the bathroom, then I gave him a little more brisket and dogfood, before putting him in the bathroom with a towel to lay on and a bowl of water, and shutting the door. August and I went hunting but between the complete and utter lack of birds in the area and our focus being on this dog, we really just ended up sitting under a big tree and having great conversation.

After we got back to camp, and I made sure everyone else was doing ok, I headed back to my room to check on the dog and to start packing up my belongings. The camp was ending that afternoon, so I needed to get a plan in place for this little guy, and quick, because I knew I couldn't take him all the way back to Indiana with me. 

I walked into my room and opened the bathroom door to a sweet little dog wagging his tail and crying for attention. He had messed on the floor, but other than that, he was fine. I cleaned up the mess while he wondered around my room, and then I fed him again. Sitting on the floor, watching him eat, and looking into those two different colored eyes was hard, knowing I would have to eventually part ways with him. I had a FaceTime call with Chance and Cianni, his twelve-year-old daughter, and the first thing Cianni said was, "You're going to keep him aren't you?".  I immediately said no, and Chance echoed that sentiment. 

My next task, since I had some down time before the other hunters and mentors came back to camp, was going to be removing ticks. There were probably thirty or forty that were laying dead in the purple tote that morning, when I lifted the dog out of it. I am so glad I took the chance and gave him the medicine the night before, and I am also so glad for Alfred's generosity. That pill probably saved this dog's life.

The amount of ticks I removed from him in about fifteen minutes.
This wasn't nearly all of them.

I started picking the ticks off one by one, and it was heartbreaking just how many there were. Many were dead or dying at this point, several were still going strong, but all of them were attached. The saddest thing for me was watching this little fella wince or hearing him yelp when I tried to remove a tick that was in a sensitive spot like his "arm pits" or around his muzzle or eyes. There were just SO MANY. While I was working on him, August ventured down to my room and offered to help. I think they were as smitten with this little dog as I was, which is why I tried to convince them to take the dog home with them. August really considered it, but after careful consideration, they had to decline. 

I talked with my dear friend Stacey, who had the idea of bringing the dog back to Indiana, and taking him to a rescue that her friend owned. The rescue was located roughly twenty-five minutes from my house, so I would potentially have the option to visit the little guy if I wanted to. One of our camp guests, Hillary, also considered the idea of one of her family members taking the dog. Her brother was a student at I.U. in Bloomington, so I could take the dog to him. But she wouldn't have an answer for a few days, so I was still going to have the dog until then. 

When it was all said and done, I had no takers with our camp guests, and camp was over, I decided to take the dog back to Indiana and to the rescue. I loaded up the purple Rubbermaid tote into the passenger seat of my truck, strapped it in with the seatbelt, and plopped the little brown dog in it for a long drive home. I wasn't the only one leaving Oklahoma with a dog. Gabby, my co-worker at the time, took the larger dog that had been hanging around camp, back to Colorado with her. She really bonded with the dog over the weekend and just decided to keep her. 

I made a stop not long after leaving Spring Valley Ranch, at a Dollar General, to pick up a small bag of dogfood, a collar, leash, two little dog beds, two small dog bowls and a few new beach towels. I had no idea what to expect driving this dog over eight hours back home, but I wanted to be prepared for accidents and possible car sickness. Thanks goodness for preparedness and for the container this little guy was riding in. There was no sickness, but there were a few times I didn't get stopped in time for him to pee, so he just peed right where he laid. He'd get up, move to the other end of the tote and go right back to sleep. The extra towels and the second dog bed came in mighty handy.

I found a hotel on the southwest side of St. Louis that would allow dogs and was cheap, because with how physically, and by now, mentally exhausted I was, I knew I needed to stop for the night. We got into the room and got situated with food and water for him, and Pizza Hut delivery for me, before calling it a night. I knew this dog still had living ticks on him and I knew he was dirty and smelled, but you can bet your ass that not only did he sleep in that hotel bed with me, but he slept on my chest, all night. I never thought twice about it. 

Waiting for pizza at the hotel.

The next morning is where things got complicated. He did great for the remainder of the trip, he slept almost the entire four hours of the drive, while only having one accident. I, on the other hand, did not do great, in fact, I started crying the minute I put him back in that tote and got back on the road. I didn't just cry a little, I cried a lot, and for the entirety of the drive home. There were times that I was sobbing, all while he was sound asleep. I wanted to keep this dog. I knew I loved him, after only roughly thirty six hours of knowing him. But I knew I couldn't keep him, it would never work with my other two dogs and Chance had already said no. It was his house after all, even though I had lived there for almost nine years. He didn't want another dog in the house, and I understood that. 

I drove straight to my friend Stacey's house. I was sobbing when I got there, and I never stopped sobbing. I followed her to the rescue that her friend owned and pulled in the driveway. The man, John who runs the rescue with his partner, Wendy, came outside to meet us. I got the dog out of the truck, still sobbing, mind you, and walked toward the house. The dog got scared by the other animals that were there and peed all over me, but I wasn't about to let go of him. We took him into the house and he wouldn't stop shaking. They had four other, bigger dogs and they were all coming at him, as dogs do, and he wasn't having it. He growled and snapped at two of them. I felt the pit in my stomach grow deeper. I couldn't leave him here. 

Right after arriving at the rescue.

I handed this tiny, brown dog who I was now in love with over to John to hold and get to know, as we all sat on the floor together, and he came right back to me. John said "Wow, he's really attached to you.", which made me cry harder. I finally made myself get up off the floor and walk to the door. I had to force myself to walk out the door and leave. I was devastated. I am actually tearing up right now just thinking about that moment. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. 

I drove home, crying all the way. Once there, I unpacked my truck and hugged Ady and Teddy tighter than I ever have. Of course, they smelled the other dog all over me and had questions. I unpacked, started laundry and cleaned the house up a little, hoping for a distraction from my heartache. Nothing made it any better. Chance puled into the driveway an hour later and I met him at his vehicle before he could even get his door open. "I'm keeping the dog", I said with tear streaming down my face. "No, you aren't", he replied. I pleaded with him, and tried to convince him that it would all be ok. He finally said "Fine", although I knew he wasn't happy about it. 

I immediately called Stacey and asked her if she could go pick the dog up and keep him for the night at her house and I would pick him up the next morning. I needed to go buy a crate, and some other necessary items for him so he would be comfortable when I brought him to our house. She laughed and agree to go get him. He was at the rescue for all of an hour and a half. I was so grateful that John and Wendy understood and were kind enough to hand him back over after agreeing to take him into their home in the first place. 

A few hours later, Chance had changed his mind. He had time to think about the situation over a few beers and came into the house to tell me about it. He looked me straight in the eyes while I was sitting on the love seat in our living room and told me that if I brought that dog to this house, I would have to find somewhere else to live, and he was dead serious. I looked up at him and without hesitation and replied "That's fine, but the dog stays with me until I can find a place to live and get my things packed", and I was just as serious. His face went blank, He knew I wasn't backing down. His expression changed almost immediately and his jawline started to soften. It was obvious to him in that moment how much I cared about this little dog who randomly stumbled upon me, in a forest of northeast Oklahoma, just a few days earlier. He knew there was no sense in arguing with me, the dog was coming home to live with us.

That night was the longest night of my life and while I was completely exhausted, I could barely sleep. I picked him up the next morning after a trip to Walmart, and we headed straight to the vet. He weighed barely nine pounds, he was emaciated, dirty, had one eye that he couldn't open all the way, a back leg that worked only half the time, a singed spot on his tail, and he just laid on the exam table. The vet tech's took such good care of him, carefully removing the remaining ticks, checking him over and giving him all the pets. The reason he couldn't open his eye all the way was because he had two tiny ticks on the underside of his eyelid. I felt terrible for him when they found those. 

The vet himself, listened intently as I told him how I found this dog, and he couldn't believe he survived the environment. He estimated based on how the dog looked and how many ticks were on him initially that he could have been out there for a month or better. A MONTH. How did this little guy survive that? He had blood drawn so he could be tested for three different tick-borne diseases and heartworms, and he received a shot of vitamin B12 under the skin since he was so malnourished. He yelped out in pain when he got that, but it would help him absorb nutrients as he began to eat more in the coming days. He ended up testing positive for only one thing, thankfully, which was Ehrlichia, from the ticks. It can cause various symptoms like lethargy, depression, fever, and the most dangerous issue, spontaneous bleeding. Ehrlichia can be treated with antibiotics, which is what we started immediately, as well as a de-wormer.

Our first vet visit.

Once home from the vet, I carefully introduced him to Ady and Teddy, and to my surprise, he never acted aggressively to them like he did to the dogs at the rescue. Maybe because he was able to sense that I was comfortable with them, I don't know. Even more surprising though, was how Ady and Teddy reacted to him. They were both scared of him. Like to the point that they went down the hall and hid from him. Eventually they came around, but refused to get to close to him. It was pretty comical, but more than that, it was a big relief.

Cianni came to visit the next evening, and I met her at the door with our newest family member. As soon as she opened the door she gasped and said " I KNEW you would keep him!", and in that moment I admitted that I wanted to keep him the moment I laid eyes on him. That is just who I am.

I decided to name him "Buddy". Chance wanted to name him "Steve", which is what he tries to name every dog we get, for whatever reason. I considered a name tied to Oklahoma that was catchy, but nothing fit him. I settled on Buddy because the first time I talked to him out in the woods on that Saturday afternoon, as he laid there so desperate for help, hanging on to whatever life he had left in him, that's what I called him. The name just fit.

A few days after getting settled, he was so incredibly thin. 

He slept for about two weeks after I brought him home. He had terrible separation anxiety, which made complete sense, given his situation. He wouldn't let me out of his sight and if I went anywhere without him, he cried and howled until I came back, regardless of how long I was gone. He and the dogs bonded, it was much quicker with Teddy than Ady, which we expected. He has gained weight and is now up to eleven pounds, which is most likely where he will stay. We did genetic testing and he is 49.7% Beagle, 36.1% Chihuahua, 7.4% Cocker Spaniel, and 6.8% Super Mutt. He definitely presents as a Beagle, no question, but if you ask me, I think he is 100% Super Mutt!

We only had one scare with him, and that was when I took him to get neutered. Long story short, he almost died on the operating table. Basically his breathing fell off and once that was stable and they were going to proceed, his heart essentially stopped. They gave him emergency meds to get it going again and made a wonderful decision to abort the surgery altogether. They think he had a bad reaction to the anesthesia. So Buddy will stay intact, after everything he did to survive in the wilderness after being dumped by some heartless monster, I sure as hell wasn't going to kill him with an unnecessary surgery. 

Buddy and Teddy play as if they are the same size, even though Ted has about ninety pounds on him. Buddy grooms Teddy constantly, sometimes too much for Ted's liking. He and Ady are becoming closer now that we don't crate Buddy anymore. They have the run of the house together during the day, and Ady has never once acted aggressive toward him. Buddy loves to hunt in the yard for anything he can catch a scent on. I keep him on a leash though, due to the way people drive on our road and for fear that he will jump a rabbit and I'll never see him again. Occasionally, Buddy gets nasty with Ted, but I think that's because he wasn't neutered and they are both males trying to be in charge. But we all know that Ady is really the one in charge around here, and neither of the boys ever mess with her.

Ady, Buddy, and Teddy.

And if you are wondering if Buddy ever grew on Chance, all you have to do is see them together. Chance is obsessed. He wants to pick Buddy up and hold him all the time, whether Buddy wants him to or not. And a year later, Chance still calls him "Steve".

Chance and Buddy on day four. 

Buddy is my best little friend.  I still see how grateful he is every time he looks at me. But I wish I could get him to understand that I am equally as grateful that he found his way to me that day. I have had dogs all my life and I have loved every one of them deeply, no question, including Ady and Teddy. But there is just something different about Buddy. He's got a huge personality, he's so expressive, and he is very affectionate. I never thought I could love a dog this much, but I do, and I make sure to tell him, every single night as he's falling asleep on my chest.