VOICE OF THE PEOPLE | NOV. 7, 2009

Buddy was special dog

Many of us have been lucky enough to have a special person or special animal come into our lives at just the right time. Buddy was one of those special animals. A month or two before he arrived at our home both my wife and I had each dealt with the passing of a parent. About that same time our dog of 12 years succumbed to old age.

A friend called my wife with what she said was the perfect dog for her. Buddy's owner was going into a nursing home and could no longer care for him. From the time he entered the house he brought much-needed joy. And for his part, he had to be in dog heaven. We had 10 acres, filled with squirrels to chase and room to run. Most mornings Buddy would cross the field to visit one of our neighbors at his barn and also chase a few geese back into the neighbor's pond. Another favorite activity was to visit the mini mule and donkey next door. He'd come home pretty ripe, but proud of himself after rolling around in their pasture.

The dog simply didn't have a mean bone in his body; he seemed to like every thing and every body. Neighbors and grandkids, as we did, enjoyed his never-ending playfulness. His world was a quiet country cul-de-sac off Tirzah Road surrounded by open land.

To the unknown person who turned off Tirzah Road onto that quiet country road around 1:30 p.m. on Oct. 29: Did you notice all the beautiful open space? When you arrived at the end of the quiet road did you notice the single house there? Did you see my wife on the riding mower? You must have seen Buddy, the small white dog, lying there by the black fence.

As you sped up making the turn could you not have instead slowed down to avoid this little dog? After you hit him, couldn't you have stopped to help? Did you give any thought to the heartbreak you had just inflicted on that house at the end of the road?

Buddy's life didn't have to end and hearts didn't have to break. But they did, and all due to your side trip down our once peaceful quiet country road. My hope and prayers are that my wife's heart will heal from yet another hurt. My hope for you is that you'll overcome your cowardly behavior and learn to take responsibility for your actions in the future, even when you know the outcome will be unpleasant. And, please, don't come down the road again.

Mike Eckweiler

York