A Buddy for Bear: The Story of Our Golden Retriever Mixes

Since early in our marriage, my husband and I considered getting a dog, but we couldn’t agree on what kind we wanted. My husband has a soft spot for Golden Retrievers, but I prefer German Shepherds. In the spring of 2021, I learned that a friend of my sister-in-law was expecting a litter of Golden Shepherd puppies—the mother dog was a Golden Retriever, and the father was a German Shepherd. A mix between the two seemed like the ideal compromise. 

Unfortunately, our living situation at the time was not conducive to a puppy. Potty and crate training would have been a nightmare with us living on the third floor, and the apartment complex enforced breed restrictions that prevented us from getting a German Shepherd. 

So we forgot about the litter of puppies—until my brother-in-law and sister-in-law adopted one of them. They brought home an ink-black ball of fluff named Luna, and we all fell in love. 

During Luna’s first few months, my husband and I moved out of that apartment and into our first home, a 1970s brick ranch on a little over two acres in the countryside. It was the perfect home for a dog, but all the puppies were accounted for—until a few months later. One of the dogs, the largest of the litter, was returned to the breeder. He was only eight months old and already weighed 75 pounds.

I saw one picture of him and knew he would be my dog. Sure enough, after meeting him one afternoon, my husband and I decided he was going to come live with us. We picked up some basics from the pet store, got our house set up, and brought him home. He couldn't walk on a leash, he couldn't stand to be left alone, and he had terrible manners. 

The first few nights, one of us had to sleep on the couch. If we let him in our room, he would jump on our bed, but if we left him in the living room alone, he would cry all night. So we slept on the couch, and eventually, he acclimated. A few months later, he went to obedience school. There, he learned manners and became much more manageable. We really started to enjoy him. He's been with us for three-and-a-half years now, and he is a well-behaved, energetic, and loyal companion. He also weighs 100 pounds. 

Neither my husband nor I seriously considered getting a second dog. We were content to spoil one dog. We didn't think we had any room in our hearts for another one—until we saw Buddy Love on the Friends of Campbell County Animal Shelter Facebook page.

Buddy Love is a seven-year-old Golden Retriever, Great Pyrenees mix with bad knees and hip dysplasia. He was surrendered to the shelter when his family could not afford veterinary care for his health issues. The shelter generously funded his femoral head ostectomy surgery and gave him a second chance at life. Unfortunately, there aren't many people who want to adopt older dogs, especially with pre-existing health conditions. This did not deter us, not when we knew we could provide a stable and loving home, even if it were to be for just a few years.

So the day after we saw his picture, we filled out an application online. Several days later, we met him at the park down the street from our house. It was love at first sight. Within minutes, he was sitting at our feet, licking our faces, and wagging his tiny tail. Despite being mixed with two larger breed dogs, he is significantly smaller than Bear. Buddy Love weighs in at just over 60 pounds, and he's half a head shorter than our resident giant.

After spending twenty minutes with him, my husband and I knew we wanted to bring him home, but Bear would make the final decision. The next day, we took Bear to the park to meet Buddy. It started rocky. Bear is generally skeptical of other dogs, so when he saw a strange dog interacting with his parents at the park, he wasn't very happy. However, after fifteen or so minutes of walking them around, they started to coexist peacefully, largely ignoring each other. Buddy Love’s foster mom handed over the reins, rather his leash, and we loaded both of them into the backseat of my SUV. When I glanced in the rearview mirror, two slobbery smiles stared back at me. We cracked the windows for the drive home, and tufts of gold fur whipped around the cabin like feathers. 

Buddy’s first week was significantly different than Bear’s. Buddy is quite a bit older than Bear was, and he's already house-trained and has good manners. He lived with a wonderful foster mom, but he still had a rough go of life. He's a little bit clingy and really likes being close to us, which has worked out well. He has become my new writing companion—he sits under my desk or behind my chair while I work. He just wants to be at my side all the time. What he lacks in athleticism, he makes up for in affection.

I didn't think I had room in my heart for another dog, but like the Grinch, my heart grew a few sizes. Before Buddy, my house was constantly covered with little black tumbleweeds, despite near-chronic vacuuming. Now, it’s more of a salt and pepper situation. Even if I have to spend twice as much time cleaning, all is well because my home is overflowing with love.