Bunkin's Story

Bunkin's Shelter Photo from Petfinder

Visit 1 at the shelter...pensive

Visit 2 at the Shelter...skinny

Today is Thanksgiving and I think it's a perfect opportunity to share Bunkin's story. Bunkin was our very first rescue dog. He came from a rural kill shelter outside of Tallahassee, where he was rotting in a concrete kennel suffering from sarcoptic mange ("scabies"). My childhood dog, Bandit, had just passed away three months before we adopted Bunkin. I knew I wanted another dog, but I planned to wait a while. Drew came down to Tallahassee to visit me one weekend and we decided to stop by Petco to see the pups available for adoption. After we left, Drew asked me what I thought about "that Bunkin dog". I hadn't even noticed him. Drew continued to mention Bunkin for the next several days, even after he'd gone back to Atlanta. I knew I had to find him. This was his heart dog, his canine soul mate. I called the Petco, found out which shelter had dogs on site the previous weekend, and asked for directions to their facility. I got in the car, drove to the middle of nowhere, and entered my very first animal shelter. The facility was awful. I had no idea what to expect and had zero experience with this sort of thing, so it hit me like a ton of bricks. The front desk woman was less than caring. She sat behind the counter filing her nails as a staff member tossed a dog up onto the counter, roughly jabbed a needle into its leg to draw blood, and didn't even bother to apply pressure afterward. The blood just trickled down the dog's leg and left little droplets on the counter next to the visitor form I was filling out. I had never smelled smells or heard racket like I did when they went back to get Bunkin. He scurried out, all skin and bones, and nervously led me out the front door. We walked, sniffed, talked, and enjoyed the fresh air from a picnic table out front. I could tell Bunkin was very smart, alert, and gentle. He had a knowing soul and his big black eyes betrayed the pain and loneliness he felt. He was so quiet, just sitting there staring off into the distance appreciating the moment of peace. I visited him for a few more minutes that first day before returning him to the awful lady at the front counter. I could hardly watch as she dragged him back into the kennel area; he slammed on the brakes and tried to dig his claws into the concrete to keep her from taking him back there. I was back three days later to visit again. After my second visit, I knew I had to get him out. Drew and I couldn't go a day without talking about him on the phone. We wanted to wait until our spring break so that Drew could come to Tallahassee for a few days and we could adopt him together. Three weeks after Drew first saw him at Petco, we drove to the shelter to rescue Bunkin.

Our adoption photo

$50. Our new best friend only cost fifty bucks. There were so many things that felt so wrong about that. No adoption form, no home check, no drivers' licenses requested. Just a $50 bill and a good riddance. Those three weeks were so tough, knowing Bunks was in that awful place. Knowing what I know now, I would have taken him home the first day I visited him rather than make him wait three more weeks. We were lucky he was still alive. Thankfully, it worked out for the best. Drew and I spent all of spring break getting to know our new buddy and helping him relax into his new home. It was so different for me, not knowing a dog's past, his age, his breed, anything at all really. But it didn't matter, not even for a minute. He was the sweetest, most grateful, gentlest little guy. He slept in Drew's lap the whole car ride back to Tallahassee from the shelter. It was like he hadn't slept in a thousand years. Knowing Bunkin as I do now, he probably hadn't. We took him to the vet, scheduled his neuter, and found out he had sarcoptic mange. It's caused by mites that burrow under the skin and lay their eggs, causing terrible itchiness that a dog can scratch at all they want but never make it stop. Bunks had big scabs and patches of red skin from scratching. It's highly contagious and my heart sank thinking of all the other dogs in that shelter itching away to no avail. It was easy to treat and we saw rapid improvement in just a couple of days. Bunkin put a couple pounds on and settled in quickly, although I'd say it took about 6 months for his full personality to shine through the scared shell of a dog we'd brought home on March 14, 2008. These days, Bunkies loves to curl up in a quiet corner and nap. He loves being outside in the yard, taking in the fresh air, watching the leaves fall from the trees, and keeping watch over his home. He loves his family. He loves getting his ears cleaned. He loves chips. He loves car rides.

As Drew's very first dog and my first rescue dog, Bunkin has a special place in our hearts. He lived with me in Tallahassee and kept me company until I finished college. Then he moved to Atlanta with Drew until we got married in 2009. As I think about all the dogs spending tonight without a family, it feels like a good time to reflect on our journey with Bunks. I am so thankful that Bunkin opened my heart and my eyes to the sea of homeless pets that are in shelters across our country. I will never turn my back on rescue and I will never forget that I have Bunkin to thank for this commitment. Happy Thanksgiving!

   

Best Buds

Update, July 8 2019: Drew and I said goodbye to our Bunkin boy today after 11 wonderful years with him. Bunkin began slowing down a month or two ago, and last week we discovered he had a type of cancerous growth in his mouth called a tonsillar squamous cell carcinoma. This is a very aggressive cancer and we knew our approach would be to simply keep him comfortable for as long as we could. We just didn't know we'd only have a week. The balancing point for managing Bunkin's comfort proved too elusive: too much prednisone and his IBD went crazy, but too little and his coughing fits returned; a smidge of tramadol to help ease the pain of his sore throat, but too much and he was barely present at all. Bunkin became a ghost of the dog he was just a month ago, a week ago even. We made the decision to let him go today. Over the years Bunkin was always terrible for veterinary procedures, so we were afraid that his last moments would be stressful and full of fear. Amazingly, Bunkin had formed a seemingly knowing connection with Dr. Collins, the vet I am assigned to at my new clinic. With Dr. Collins, Bunkin didn't need a muzzle. He didn't freak out or fight our efforts. He just seemed to be at ease and somehow knew he could trust Dr. Collins and her gentle spirit. This unbelievable peace gave Drew and I enormous comfort, along with the fact that I was able to be Bunkin's technician alongside Dr. Collins in his final moments. He went smoothly and easily with Drew and I crowded alongside him. We are also tremendously grateful to Paws, Whiskers, and Wags - the crematory where one of my dear co-workers spends the other half of her week - for their heartfelt care and sensitivity handling our doggo's remains. Bunkin will return to us in an adorable little pawprint box and he will keep my Bandit company on our dresser. Drew summed it up best when he said that we shouldn't be sad, but instead focus on what an awesome life Bunkin lived beside us - our whole married life plus a year. He got to ride out all of our adventures right along with us; this dog lived in three different states, traveled across the country not once but twice, trotted along the sandy shores of the East and West coasts, kayaked, hiked, got a DNA test, acted as the ambassador to so many foster siblings, introduced his daddy to the life of dogs, had a best doggy buddy by the name of Oliver, and grew truly old surrounded by love. This is the end of the "3 Brown Dogs" era. Thank you for letting us be your people, Bunkies. We love you tons, miss you lots, and will always remember your place in our hearts as our very first "brown dog". 

Our last photos with Bunkin

#3BrownDogs