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It was January 30th 2011 when we unexpectedly lost our little pal Guss. Guss was the last (and smallest) of his litter when we discovered him at a pet shop in Carpentersville. He was documented a pure bred Jack Russell Terrier even though he didn’t have the required 51% white in his coat. He was tiny. Weighing in at just three pounds; 25% smaller than his siblings. His brown color and small stature were what drew me to him. I knew at first glance we were taking that little puppy home. And we did. It was late on a Saturday afternoon in 1997 when we introduced the little guy to our home. I hastily assembled his cage while my wife was getting all the attention. To give you a better perspective on his size “Bones” the Beanie Baby dog was equal in size to Guss. When it was bedtime, we put “Little Gussy” in his “home” and went upstairs to bed. It wasn’t 10 minutes when the crying ensued. I told my wife that he’s got to get used to his new home and he’ll quite down when he gets tired. Needless to say, we didn’t get much sleep that night. When I went to greet the little guy in the morning I found his cage empty! Where could he have gone, I wondered. How did he escape? I soon found Guss hiding in a nook in our kitchen. He didn’t appear to be frightened but looked tired. I scooped him up in one hand and his stub of a tail wagged like a hummingbirds wings. His tongue was looking for something to lick and eventually found my cheek almost as if to say, thank you for rescuing me Daddy. That was it. I had a brand new best friend. I later discovered that I had assembled the cage upside down. The openings at the bottom of the cage were larger and offered enough room for Guss to escape. How he pulled himself up nearly two feet I’ll never know. He was no more than eight inches long. Guss would never spend another night alone. We enjoyed his companionship for thirteen and a half years. He was the epitome of a Jack Russell. Boundless energy always leaping from here to there, fast and above all fiercely protective. If anyone raised a hand to me, Guss would perform a three foot vertical jump to dissuade them from attempting harm. At thirteen pounds and ever stoic he would flash his brilliant white teeth whenever a menacing presence was near. Whether that be a friend or relative, another animal or just a leaf blowing by. This incredible little being taught me the meaning of unconditional love. It was a Sunday afternoon when my ever-present little buddy was “helping” me with chores in the basement. His black and brown face was fading to white. His hearing was nearly gone. He seemed to be a little gimpy at times but he was still a bundle of energy. So much so that I started spelling his name with an exclamation point years before. It was that fateful evening when Guss! leaped from one piece of furniture to another and missed his mark. He fell on his behind, picked himself up and scampered up the stairs as if he was embarrassed. I later found him in his bed resting. It seemed unusual for Guss! to nap so long. It had been a few hours since he left me. I tried to coax him from his lair to no avail. I picked him up and he immediately went down. His hind legs slipped out from underneath and I became concerned. I assumed that at his age perhaps he needed more time to heal and let him be. He was not whimpering and didn’t seem to be in any pain. A couple hours later Guss! was completely paralyzed. My wife and I brought him to an acute care animal hospital and the vet determined he had slipped a disc injuring the spinal cord. Guss! was indeed paralyzed. When asked, the veterinarian said that although surgery was an option, my little pal would likely never walk again. Knowing Guss! and his boundless energy, I couldn’t let him live that way. After some reflection and many, many tears, we decided to give Guss! to God. Years before, someone had shown me a copy of the Dog’s Prayer. After reading it, I decided that when the day came for me to let go of my bestest buddy I would be with him. And that evening as the drugs took hold, I held my little Guss!, gazing into his big brown eyes, whispering my love and total devotion while his life slowly ended. I was devastated. I reluctantly gave him to the vet who gently handled Guss! as if he were a newborn baby. We buried Guss! the next day at a pet cemetery in Vernon Hills. All my life I have been on the fence about the possibility of an afterlife. That all changed a few days later when an image of Guss! appeared in the fog of my windshield. Knowing people wouldn’t believe me, I snapped a picture with my phone for evidence. Clearly there was an image of a dogs triangular head in the photo. It was days later when I shared the picture with a friend who noticed the dogs image seemed to be peering out of the right eye of a bearded man’s head! Needless to say I’m now a believer. And am looking forward to one day finding my friend on the Rainbow Bridge. I so desperately needed to grieve for my loss. But there was no place to go. I searched the Internet to no avail. So, I created MyBestestBuddy.com . It’s my gift to animal lovers everywhere. Here’s to Guss! For he was the inspiration for this
website. Gussy, I love you. I miss you. Happy trails my friend. I’ll see
you at the Rainbow Bridge.
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