Biopsies and Buggers

This weekend I had dinner with some girl friends in Atlanta.  It was a wonderful escape from worrying about cancer, divorce, and poverty.  All the women there had had similar experiences and troubles and they were all still alive and laughing about it. There was a precious dog there and before long we began to talk about our pets and stories about them.  One friend reminded me of my brother's dog, Bugger.  She had pet sat for him on an occasion and loved the dog and his name. It didn't take much to get me talking about Bugger stories.  Bugger was just a big ole' sweet yellow lab that wondered up one day, half starved and smelling, and moved right into my brother's heart and home.  I had never known of a dog with that name and when I saw Bugger the first time, I remarked on his fine form and sweet disposition, but couldn't understand how the name fit the mutt.  When asked about the name and the reason for it, my brother replied that he'd always wanted a dog named Bugger and that when someone would come over and say "Hey, is that your dog Bugger?"  His answer would be "No, its s'not".  My family.  Bugger had run of the house and pretty much became at times the center of my brother's attention, always loving companion and passenger side window rider when possible.  Bugger was spoiled and loved as much as any dog but over the years, Bugger's early neglect took a toll on his heath and finally his sight failed him.  Bugger became, Blind Bugger.  My brother though always the funny man, decided Bugger needed a Seeing Eye Dog to solve his problems with sight. At other times, dark glasses and a cane were discussed.  While none of that  happened it did make for lots of stories over the years when Bugger no longer could see s'not.  Bugger's wonderful disposition followed him through his trials and when he ran into the wall, off the porch, into the lake or whatever, he just got back up, shook it off and started off again.  Bugger lived up to his reputation as just a sweet ole' dog. Faithful and calm through all the difficulties that came his way.  This week I am determined to be brave about my biopsy, poverty and broken heart. Its s'not what I wanted but its what I got and I will do my best to find the punch line in my trials just like that good ole' dog.  I will pay the $l400 medical bill and not cuss Blue Cross, I will not swear at the county because the property taxes are due, I will not cry that two tires had to be replaced, and I will make the best of having a cold.  I may fall off the porch but I will shake it off, lick my wounds and keep moving. I will try to be a real Bugger about the whole thing.