When I was 11 I begged and begged and pleaded and begged my parents for my very own dog. I sent a letter from an anonymous source saying why I deserved a dog. I researched what kind of dogs there were. Then I begged some more. Finally I was allowed to get a dog, he was a corgi and his name was Buddy.
Last November we went home to Colorado and my dog was 13 years old. He wasn’t doing so well so I took some portraits of him.
My sweet puppy had to be put down in February. I don’t think it will really hit me until I’m back home again in just three weeks. I’m dreading the moment I walk in the door and he doesn’t come to greet me.
He used to greet me off the school bus (yes, just like Lassie). We could leave a bag of carrots within his reach and he would go get one out of the bag, take it to a comfortable spot and munch it, then go back for one more. He barked at the vacuum, and he absolutely loved snow (like me!).
I miss him.