Part 2 of Buddy & Wally's Story
Back to the desert
The bog was dry enough to walk on, so I went out to get the bodies and to my surprise what I thought were the Westies were salt formations! Even upon closer inspection they looked just like Westies. Then I felt myself panic. I knew they had to be there, somewhere. There were some guys out there fourwheeling, so I was telling them about Wally and Buddy, when one guy pointed and said, 'There is a dog right over there. Is that one of them?' It was. I must have walked right past him before, twice! He blended in very well. I almost didn't see him. We looked all over and couldn't find the other one. I think it's possible he got saved. In fact, I have this little niggling suspicion that the jerk still has him. After all, he had only wanted one in the first place, but agreed to take both because the rescue wouldn't place them seperately . . . It was really hot out there and we had a lot of space to cover . . . I searched until I was sick and had to go back. If I hadn't gotten sick, I would have gone further . . . But I just couldn't do it . . . None of us could.
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The memorial had fallen down, so I took it and put it where I found the body. I put your poem there, too. The guys are going to keep a look out for the other one. If they find him, they'll let me know and I'll go get him. The stench was enough to make you throw up. We had to drive all the way back with the windows wide open, and he was secured in a garbage bag. If we find the other one, I'll take extra garbage bags. Now I have to see what the rescue wants to do with the body and figure out which one he is . . . He's wearing a purple collar. |
I talked to *R* and she said that
the one wearing the purple collar is Buddy . . .
Exact Drop Off and "Attempt" to Find Wally |
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The scar of isolation in this wasteland has never been as sharply defined until the death of the encrusted skeleton of a small white terrier. Whose sparkeling eyes and joyous bark has now forever succumbed to the consumptive terrain known as Utah’s Salt Flats. ~ Let no man forget this story ~ |
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...*R* is on her way to Elko right now. I think the jerk still has Wally, so she's staying there over night and visiting him bright and early tomorrow morning, then we'll meet out in the desert. She wants to see where Buddy died and pay her respects at the memorial, and I want to take more pictures. I picked up this little rescue boy from a woman in SLC. The timing is perfect to when Wally and Buddy 'disappeared', but I dunno. He doesn't look at all like Wally, to me, but he has birthmarks in the same places, and she said Wally has a very different bark, kind of a half bark. Last night when I got home, he barked a bit. It was more like a squeaky bark. I think I'll be taking him tomorrow to see if he is Wally, just in case. He'll stay in the air conditioned truck with her dogs. There aren't many Westies here, and he was found shortly after they were abandoned. The man from Elko could have gotten tired of him and abandoned him here off I-80. He was found very near there. If this is him, the man from Elko took his collar off and cut down his coat so there would be no way to identify him. Of course, he wouldn't think anyone who knew what happened would ever find him. I'm trying not to think it's him, though, it's such a long shot . . . It's very hot here today. That could be good out there in the desert, if it keeps the earth dry enough to walk on. I hope we find him tomorrow, one way or another. If we don't, I think it's time to give up the search. This will be my third time out and it's a 6-7 hour for
*R* . . . I'm tired and it's very disappointing each time, and we've covered the whole area. Not to mention, heartbreaking all over again, thinking what they went through out there. Before I forget, did I tell you that I now have the man from Elko's full name, social security number, place of work, the fact that he filed for bankruptcy in '99, and where he lived before this address? How's that for investigating? Well, I'd better get offline, *R*'s supposed to call when she gets to Elko to let me know what time to meet her, then I can ask her if she thinks my little rescue dog is Wally. He has a bit of an underbite, and I don't think Wally did. Buddy had an overbite, and *R* mentioned that, but not an underbite.
BUDDY'S ALIVE!! BUDDY'S ALIVE!! BUDDY'S ALIVE!!
We had quite an adventure today, and I just got home. The dog is Buddy! Can you believe it? What are the chances? The girls are coming to *R*'s tomorrow night to see him. They will be the final ones to say it's really him. *R* is 99% sure, but she's not absolutely sure which one he is. Well, everything points to his being Buddy. I just knew that if I followed my feelings we'd find him. What a bizarre story this has turned out to be. I can hardly wait to tell people. The whole Westie world will rejoice, although sad for Wally. Very sad. This means he died alone out there. Buddy kept pulling me to the spot where Wally died and this just broke my heart all over again. He knew *R* and her dogs immediately, but he kept coming back to sit by me (at a fenced park we went to). He knows I love him. The girls are absolutely thrilled. We stopped at Arby's so that *R* could call them. They had no idea I even had a rescue dog here because I didn't want to get their hopes up, so it was a complete surprise. They all screamed, and *R* cried. I had a few tears a couple of times, myself, especially when I had to say goodbye to him.
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We followed *R* to Elko and confronted the POS (piece of s**t). My friend had to hold us down. A few times she thought we would rip his throat out. At one point, *R* asked him if he wanted to change his story (we hadn't told him about finding Buddy) and he said no (we had made him tell us the whole story because there were 3 of us as witnesses). Then *R* said, 'We found Buddy.' The blood drained from his face. He just said 'did you'. Well, he thought there was no way in hell we could have, so I don't think he really believed us at that point. Then I said, 'He's alive.' My friend said she had to look at me because it wasn't me saying it. I sounded so sinister and dramatic, like it came all the way from my gut, and my hands even came up like I was ready to kill. I didn't even realize what I was doing. So, then I said 'He's alive and I have him in my van'. Then *R* lost it and went for him, calling him a f*****g liar, excuse the language, then I jumped in calling him names, and he screamed at us to get off his property. We did, but we told him we were going to go press charges right now . . . he's shaking in his boots, I hope.
As far as we can figure out, he dumped Buddy in SLC, he didn't tell us he had a son and Buddy probably bit him. He hacked at his beautiful haircut so no one would recognize him, took off his collar and dumped him. Back on the road Wally probably was crying, whining, and barking. So the jerk stops to go pee (yeah, right) and Wally jumps out looking for Buddy, his lifelong companion, after all, he just witnessed his father being dumped and disappearing behind the truck. He could have just gotten tired of Wally's crying so he decided to put him out. Either way he drove off and left the dog in the desert to die. He didn't think we would have ever looked for them, let alone find them! Especially so far away in SLC. Buddy is one traumatized little boy. The thing is, the jerk realizes now that we know he's a lying sack of s**t ('scuse the language). He doesn't know the laws on abandonment and he doesn't know if we can really get him. He's worried - and he should be. He has a tattoo of a gang member on his hand, so I'm guessing that's part of his past. Who knows what else he's done that he might be worried about. We wouldn't be at all surprised if he ran now. We caught him in several lies, and he knows it. Maybe he did hang around for 45 minutes, but it doesn't matter, because the minute he left, he signed Wally's death warrant. He said he went back in the morning and searched for 4 hours. We know that isn't true, because he would have found Wally. Wally would have still been alive, and if he'd called, he would have come. He was not stuck in the bog as I first thought. No, the tracks I saw were Wally's searching for something, maybe the jerk, Buddy, scratching for water, shelter, but he was searching until his tracks came to rest where we found him lying. As for the jerk, his footprints showed just how hard and far he searched...the POS stayed 'maybe' 10 minutes, 20 tops. He didn't go very far at all. (I've marked up a picture to show how far he went.) I'm still just sick over this. It was so hard giving Buddy back, and we are grieving over Wally. I'll really miss Buddy. I feel like we have been together for sometime now . . . it was premeditated abandonment with Buddy, but maybe not Wally.
So there you have it - Buddy is alive, not Wally. It just breaks our hearts . . . and you just can't stop wondering why he even tried to adopt them? Why didn't he just call and give them back? . . . Why? Why, why, WHY!
I guess the jerk is the only one who knows the answers to those questions - and to think he's raising a child . . . Lord help us all.
*R* writes regarding Buddy: August 6, 2001
Buddy is doing great!!! More "alive" everyday and has even started playing with my two other dogs. He's a total cuddle bun!!! Loves to be right next to me and have tummy rubs. It's so cute they way he goes about getting your attention. Let me try and explain....
Buddy comes up and sits next to me on the couch, then he leans on me, tilts back a bit, then throws his head back and Voila! he's sitting up, back against the couch back, with paws thrown up in the air, big brown eyes staring at you longingly... "Rub my belly!!"..and of course many Westie kisses..... It's just adorable. VBG
Wally
Rescue was told immediately about the discovery of Wally's body. Without hesitation, Rescue advised that Wally’s body be cremated in order to give him a proper burial - one of love. SF Westie Rescue stepped in to cover the expense for a private cremation. A fellow rescuer in Arkansas offered to design a hand-made urn for Wally. Wally’s remains are currently in the hands of Westie Rescue of N. Nevada until further notification of the urn’s arrival. Then, Wally will have made his last and final journey.
** On August 9, 2001 the handmade Westie urn designed by our Arkansas rescuer, arrived safely at *R*’s home. Wally's remains will be lovingly placed within this urn, a touching tribute to a little dog that never knew just how much he was truly loved.
*** We feel that the woman who found Buddy should be given honorary mention. She went beyond the call of duty when she spotted a little white stray . . . Around June 25 - 27, 2001 this kind Samaritan found a little white stray within a half block from the I-80 exit, where he was probably dropped off. His paws were pretty torn up and infected, and his head felt hot like he had a fever, so she took him to the vet. She was also hoping to find out if he had a microchip, but he didn't. The vet said nothing was wrong with him, so the kind Samaritan took care of his tender paws, and soon Buddy became a wonderful part of her growing family over the next three weeks. She put ads in the paper and flyers around, but no one claimed him. Her own dog was jealous and stopped eating. She was pregnant with her first child, and as much as she wanted to keep him, she knew she couldn’t. Then one day I noticed the ad - I answered it as a Westie rescue person, and told her I could find him a good home, so she agreed to let me take him. Later that night, she called and said there was a woman who wanted him, as a playmate for her 2 year old son. I explained to her how we do not place rescue Westies in homes with small children and that is this woman took him, she should watch him carefully, and to call if there were any problems. After I hung up, I just had a feeling that the woman shouldn't take the dog, because it was either Buddy or Wally (thinking it would be Wally). I called back and asked for the woman's phone number so that I could at least look at the dog and see if he could be one of them, knowing it was a long shot, but I had to make sure. The lady said she still had the dog, because when the woman came to see him the dog had growled at the little boy. Had she taken Buddy with her, we never would have know that Buddy was alive. That was all I needed to hear. I went the next morning and picked him up. After I saw him, I didn't think he was either Buddy or Wally, but what really bothered me was that this little dog had the same birthmarks as Buddy. The next night when he barked, he had that weird little bark, the one *R* had told me about.
After speaking with *R*, we pretty much knew . . .
Buddy was alive.
Desert Angel I wish you sweet sleep now, my little one ~ let the stars and the moon be your light, take comfort, your journey is over ~ rest in God's care tonight. Sleep now my weary companion ~ take comfort to know someone cared, and searched until truth stood before her ~ bringing you home from out there. Sleep now, my sweet desert angel ~ your six years went by so fast, three homes you had known while still living ~ it pains us that this was your last. Sleep now, sweet boy of the desert ~ rest your white weary head, on hearts that will always remember ~ the story of you and your dad. So sleep now, our little white angel ~ with the moon and the stars as your light, and know that you’ll always be thought of ~ in Spring when your flowers bloom white. Written and Revised For All of Us From our hearts to yours, |
