Poor Tripawds Spokesdawg Wyatt. He had to sit out this year’s Colorado musher dog camp out after arthritis surgery.
“Wyatt, you need to see the dogtor in Colorado,” Mom said to me after I went skydiving. So I went along with her idea, because I am a good dawg and know the drill. Like I really have a choice right?
What she didn’t tell me was the dogtors were going to stick a big fat needle in my leg to help with my arthritis problem.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, that I would need to do more couch surfing for like three weeks!
Worst of all, I had to sit out this year’s Colorado musher dawg camp out! Yeah that’s right, my Odoroloc pals and me got to hang out in the mountains again. But when they got to run run run for training time, I had to crack the whip from the side lines.
There was no racing for me this year. Not cool, mom. I want to mush too!
Bucky was the kind of dog that didn’t care that he wasn’t a “real” sled dog. He didn’t care that his coat was thin, his legs a bit too long, or that his ears were apparently put on backwards. He loved being a part of his team, and when they sang, he did his very best to howl along in a baying hound sort of way.
So, you know how when you see someone cool, someone who just has a certain sparkle about them, you think “Man, I want some of what they’ve got!” Well, I got some of what Bucky had. Really!
When I saw the Odaroloc team last month, TC came over to share some of Bucky’s spirit with me. She carries his ashes around when the team travels. Sometimes dogs are lucky enough to get a dash of bucky Magic. . .
On October 4th, the Feast of Saint Francis, which my people say was really cool to do on that day, I got some Bucky Magic. TC came over and took a pinch of his ashes and rubbed them on my head.
We’re nothing but a pile of ashes in the end, but I gots to believe that some of our goodness is left with those ashes too. So, hey ain’t it cool I got a pile of Bucky goodness all over my fur that day?