Butch

Originally Published Dec. 2012

Butch was the ultimate family dog.  Actually, he didn’t quite realize that he was a dog.  He truly believed that he was a member of our family and we – the family – truly believed it, too.  Butch was not a purebred.  He was part Golden Retriever, part Collie, and part “you name it.”  You may recall a previous story I wrote about Butch where he thought that his goal in life was to chase the train several times a day.

Now, Butch was a big dog.  He liked to fall asleep in the dining room with the sun keeping him warm.  There were many times he’d allow me to put my head on his body and we’d both take our naps on the dining room floor.  My mom used to say that if she saw Butch, she knew where we were and that we were safe.

So, naturally, our “babysitter,” went with us on our summer vacations to our cabin in northern Minnesota.  My parents co-owned a cabin with three other couples on Lake Winnebigosh – about 200 miles north of my hometown, Forest Lake.  They drew straws every year to choose the weeks during the summer when each family would stay at the cabin.   And so, it was during our time at the cabin that Butch found out how much he was loved.

Butch was 14 years old and moving slowly – but, he still liked to walk with us when we hiked in the woods or when Joanne and I would play “Princess Summer Fall Winter Spring” and pretend we were Indians living outdoors.

Four days into our vacation, Butch stopped eating.  He would just mope around the cabin and after another day, couldn’t even stand up.  He started foaming at the mouth.  Dad quickly found the phone book and looked up the location of the nearest veterinarian…. only 20 miles away.  Dad gathered Butch in his arms and he and my brother, Steve, took him to the doctor.  They discovered that Butch had cancer and the vet advised dad to put him to sleep right then and there.

Dad couldn’t do that.  We all needed to be with Butch – and to have Butch spend his last days with us in Forest Lake.  So, even though we still had over a week left of our vacation, we all piled in the car and headed home.  We three kids sat in the back seat with Butch spread across our laps.  Steve was in charge of stroking Butch’s head and his back and we all sang him songs.  And, for the first time ever – we didn’t fight. 

I have to tell you – this was the shortest four-hour drive home we’ve ever had.  Let’s just say that my dad had a lead foot and he didn’t care if he got a speeding ticket or not.  Luckily, he didn’t.

Butch was actually Steve’s dog since they got Butch when Steve was just a baby.  And so, it was decided that dad and Steve would say the final goodbye to Butch at the local veterinarian’s office.  When they returned, dad went to the lumberyard and bought brand-new pine to make the best box for Butch.  Mom went to the store and bought a new blanket so he’d have a nice, new, soft place in which to rest – only the best for our loved one!  Joanne and I picked flowers for him.  Dad and Steve dug a very deep hole and while we said a few prayers, Steve shot his BB gun 21 times.  I believe this was a very appropriate farewell for a loyal family member.