By Tabitha Evans Moore, EDITOR & PUBLISHER

PERSONAL ESSAY | I first met Bucky on the Internet. I spotted him while scrolling through Facebook and instantly needed to know more about him. I reached out to someone who knew him personally, and she confirmed he was a catch.

“Oh, he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body,” she said. “He’s one of the happiest I know, which is incredible considering what he’s been through.”

The “what he’s been through” instantly piqued my interest. I needed to know more – to stand in front of him personally, and size him up. So, on Saturday, we agreed to meet for a hike at Tims Ford State Park.

Oh, and Bucky is a pit bull mix who lives down at the Friends of Animals Rescue & Adoption Center, not a guy.

Looking for his forever home

As a single gal, I have a roster, but not of men. My roster consists of a half dozen furry faces down at the local rescue.

Nearly every man I’ve ever dated, fell deeply in love with me and then changed his mind suddenly – often marrying the very next person they dated. I used to jokingly refer to myself as the husband rescuer because I took in strays and got them ready for their forever home.  

I now take the energy I used to waste trying to save men and put it into saving animals. The work is pretty much the same, but the dog-saving is much more rewarding.

Anyway, I joined the Friends of Animals Board of Directors several months ago, and I’m slowly learning my way around the world of animal rescue. I now travel with a bag of food, water, and a catch leash in my trunk. I’m constantly scanning local roadways for those who need my love.

Just like dating, rescue work comes with its own heartbreak. Several weeks ago, I fell in love with a local stray I named Finney. I discovered him near Lynchburg Elementary School, and became instantly obsessed. I spent hours sitting with him near the Lynchburg Cemetery attempting to gain his trust. Despite the fact that he never acted aggressive with me, Finney began to nip and bite at other people. I couldn’t understand it.

A few days later, the shelter director, a local vet, and local law enforcement were all in agreement – for the safety and welfare of the general public, we needed to humanely euthanize Finney because we feared he’d contracted rabies. It absolutely broke my heart, and because of it I’ve kind of avoided the rescue for the past few weeks.

Recently though, I’ve been thinking about how to use my talents to help. So, I decided to spend one-on-one time with one of the rescue pups on Saturday, so I could write about the experience for the newspaper. The Lynchburg Times is read by over 150,000 readers a month. That’s a lot of potential puppy parents.

So on Saturday, I had a first date with Bucky, a sweet pit bull mix we rescued last week. We named him Bucky because we found him in the Buckeye Community of Moore County.

We learned about Bucky on October 22 when a neighbor posted about him on social media. According to the neighbor, he’d been wandering around Buckeye Loop Road for weeks.

“We could not get him to come up and eat,” they said. “He’s very thin. I’m afraid he was dropped off here several weeks ago.”

That’s when our rescue director, Christy Oakes, set out to catch him. By the end of October, we had him safely at the rescue. With a little love and a lot of Purina, he quickly recovered from survival mode.

We don’t deserve dogs.

On Saturday, I made arrangements to pick up Bucky for a field trip – to let him stretch his legs and maybe sneak in a little leash training at Tims Ford State Park.

As I walked by the cages, another suitor, Webster, my favorite, howled for attention. I stopped to pet him and he just melted into my hand. He is the sweetest dog. Eyeing the leash in my hand, he howled when I stood up to leave without opening the kennel.

“Not today buddy,” I told him. “The new guy needs to get a little fresh air. I love you though.”

As I walked past, Henry, a black shepherd mix, just sat in resolved acceptance. He’s been at the rescue the longest, over 350 days. He’s also a lesson in never judge a book by its cover. He’s an absolute sweetheart and incredibly mellow. Just an easy dog to be around.

“Hello there, handsome boy. You know sometimes the biggest blessings take the longest time to develop. Your people are out there,” I told him as he licked my hand.

Then I laid eyes on Bucky for the first time and we instantly clicked. He looked at me with excited eyes and a broad grin. In the social media post, he looked all skin and bones, but in his short time here, he’d already put on weight. As I opened the kennel, he jumped in excitement. I lowered myself to his level and he planted a big lick on the right side of my face.”

“I don’t really kiss on a first date,” I joked.

You gotta admire the forgive-and-forget attitude of most shelter dogs. They’re victims of human cruelty and yet they love humans unconditionally. We don’t deserve dogs.

“Don’t fall in love. Do not fall in love,” I repeated to myself as I walked him to my car.

Learning to be a good boy

On the car ride there, Bucky behaved a bit like a child who just ate red food dye. He bounced from the front seat to the back. He stuck his nose out the cracked window, and whimpered as we took the curves. If I spent the majority of my day in a 10×10 kennel, I’d go a little stir crazy too.

Once at the trail entrance, I parked and strapped my 35mm to my chest. I needed a good photo for my piece, and to remember the day. Then, I unloaded Bucky and we headed down the trail.

He pulled at the leash at first, and he’s a strong dog. For the first mile, he walked me. Every time he pulled, I’d say, “easy” then we’d stop for a beat. After he calmed, we’d begin to walk again. It didn’t take Bucky too many rounds of this to learn to chill.

“That’s a good boy,” I told him as the leash relaxed.

A mile in, we came upon a family with a Shih Tzu and two small children. I shortened the leash and put myself between Bucky and the family in anticipation. Bucky barked at the dog and lunged toward the kids.

“No sir,” I scolded, and he cowered.

When we met a second family with a Doberman, Bucky barked but did not make any movement towards them.

“No sir,” I scolded again. This time, Bucky took it in stride. By the time we met our third family, he kept his eyes forward and kept walking.

“You’re smart. Aren’t you?” I said as Bucky lifted his leg to mark a maple tree.

As we crossed the bridge, I noticed a path down to the water, and decided to let Bucky stomp around a bit. Down at the shore, he waded out into the water, and lunged at the surface as if he spotted a fish. Then, he circled back to me as I took the lens cap off my camera. Almost on cue, Bucky looked up at me and smiled.

As we reached the end of the path and turned around, Bucky’s demeanor changed. He’d run off some of the anxiety and extra energy. His nervous system finally relaxed. On the car ride home, he laid down in the backseat totally chill.

Love people anyways

As we walked into the shelter, I gave Christy all the tea.

“Here’s what I know about Bucky. He’s super smart. He’d be great around kids and other dogs who are ‘in his pack’ and he’d also make a great guard dog for a single woman or a family. Your vibe will completely determine his, and he’s very trainable.”

“That sounds about right,” she said.

“He also needs an active person – someone who will walk him or play with him daily. He won’t do well pinned up or alone all day.”

“Agreed,” she said – giving me this look that said I wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.

I walked Bucky back to his kennel, and he curled up in the corner.

“You’re gonna sleep well,” I said as I hung his leash beside the door and locked the gate.

Then, I gave another round of love to Henry, Webster, and Dexter on my way back to the office.

To me shelter dogs are the most healed beings on Earth. Despite the fact that humans often mistreat, hurt, neglect, or abandon them, they love them anyway. You don’t need to say “I’m sorry” because it’s already forgiven. Whatever love you give them, they unconditionally reflect it right back to you.

Bucky is a perfect example of this idea. Someone dumped him and left him for dead, but he’s not mad about it. He insists on loving people anyway, and really, what’s not to love about that?

If you are interested in fostering Bucky or meeting him for a potential adoption meet and greet, please reach out to Friends of Animals Rescue Director Christy Oakes at 931-434-7508 or [email protected]. Or to learn more about volunteering or donating to our 501©3 organization, click here. •

{The Lynchburg Times is the hometown newspaper of Lynchburg, Tennessee the home of The Jack Daniel Distillery. Our editor volunteers on the Board of Directors of the Friends of Animals Animal Rescue. She writes these essays as a public service to encourage local animal adoption.}