…remembering Bubby

His original foster name was Gibson and he was one half of my cancer consolation prize. We had only had cats as pets for many years, with the exception of one ill-fated decision to adopt a giant Scottish terrier who we rehomed after less than a year. But after I completed chemotherapy for breast cancer in 2012, I decided that I wanted a small dog. I don’t know what made me choose a chihuahua, but after searching various adoption sites, we found a rescue organization that had several chihuahuas saved from a hoarding situation.

After looking at many pictures and profiles, we decided on a very traditional looking female deer headed chihuahua but also were strangely drawn to a weird floppy eared black and white male puppy. He was allegedly an apple head chihuahua but his long legs and one ear up, one ear down situation led us to later believe he was part terrier of some kind.

We brought them both home in December 2012 and they were re-christened Ozzie and Izzy (Isabella). They were both very cute and playful but they were also a LOT of work. I was still undergoing radiation and dealing with cancer after affects; our girls were young and had busy schedules, and we realized we might have bitten off more than we could chew. They were both rambunctious puppies but Izzy drove Ozzie crazy and he could never relax around her. Ozzie and I had more of a bond so after Christmas, my in-laws took Izzy into their home and renamed her (again) Gabby. During the time we had the two of them together, we got in the habit of calling Ozzie “Bubba” which morphed into “Bubby”. And the new name stuck.

From the start Bubby was my boy. During my stay at home days, he would ride with me to pick up the girls at school, often barking at everyone in the car pick up line. He once locked me out of the Durango when I was picking up Abby at an after school practice. Luckily I left the sunroof open and one of Abby’s classmates was able to go through the roof and unlock the car!

He traveled with when he was younger. We once took him to the Smokey Mountains, where he protested being left alone in the rental by dragging all of our clothes out of suitcases. We would take him on our weekends to visit Trever’s parents in south Arkansas where he would be pestered by his former sister. He was not well trained – at all- and I spent the majority of the time chasing him around to make sure he didn’t hike his leg on things! Later, we took Gabby, who we renamed AGAIN, back when my mil started having health problems and traveled with both of them to the Gulf Coast. They did not particularly enjoy it, so we started leaving them with Trever’s parents to pet sit and, in recent years, we started hiring a pet sitter come to our home.

Bubby liked to take little walks around the neighborhood. He seemed to draw the ire of every larger dog we passed, probably because he antagonized them with barking! He had a select few toys he liked, but after playing with them, he was usually more concerned with hiding them so that no one else could have them – his blue Skunk was a particular favorite. He loved to eat and was as round as a tick as he got older. He also developed a terrible allergy to grass and periodically had to be greased up and put in a onesie to protect his skin. He was also a champion howler, modulating his pitch to match whoever was egging him on. He also was the victim of many a dress up occasion.

He was such a chunky boy so when he began losing weight earlier this year, we were a little concerned. He was drinking a lot and panting more than usual and we thought diabetes might be the problem. In mid June I took him to the vet to have some bloodwork done which revealed that although his sugar levels were fine, his kidney function was high. It was recommended that we switch him to a low protein diet and supplement with subcutaneous fluids when necessary. I was surprised and upset but thought it would be something we would be able to manage for some time. We bought him prescription food, which he HATED, and observed him for a couple of weeks. When we took him back a couple of weeks later his bun had doubled and his creatinine was off the charts. At that point, we gave up the ghost in the food fight. He was getting pickier and pickier about eating ANY kind of food, much less the prescription kidney diet and we ate least wanted him to eat and not be hungry. He seemed to be doing ok otherwise, until the second week of August when he had an episode of vomiting.

We had yet another vet visit and more fluids, and on Wednesday, August 13th the dogs and I went to bed rather early. I drifted off to sleep and awoke about 10:40 to Bubby acting very erratically. He would often sit at the edge of the bed and whine or jump down if he needed to get up in the night, but he was stumbling all over the bed. I got him up and brought him into the living room where he seemed to have difficulty standing, and was panting and acting strange. I tried holding him to calm him down but he kept wanting to get down and was very restless.

The dogs always sleep with me but that night I settled them into the living room so I could at least get a little rest. The next morning, Thursday, he ate a little wet dog food and seemed to be okay. However, Trever texted me at work and said he had vomited all his food up. Around lunchtime, I missed a call and then saw a text from Trever that simply read call me 911. He told me he had let Bubby outdoors and saw him fall over with what we could only assume was a seizure. He took some time to come out of it and was panting and confused. I told him to pick me up and then realized our vet was closed from 12:30 – 1:30. It was 12:36.

Even though it was the middle of the workday, my amazing boss let me leave to go to the vet. Trever picked me up while I called the kids to let them know what was going on; we knew this was probably it. Our pet sitter is one of the vet techs at our office, so I started texting her to let her know what was happening and that we were on our way. The doctors were at lunch so we waited in the parking lot for about half an hour and they got us in as soon as they reopened from lunch.

The entire time in the exam room, Bubby was walking around quite disoriented. He wouldn’t let me hold him. Dr. Ward did another blood panel just to check, and sure enough his bun had doubled in less than a week even with fluids. Although it broke my heart I knew it was time. Whether the toxins were rising in his body from his failing kidneys or he was having some unrelated strokes or seizures, I couldn’t bear to put him through more pain. So sometime after 2 p.m. they gave him a sedative and he finally relaxed enough for me to carry him around and talk to him as he got ready to cross the rainbow bridge. I knew my daddy would be there to greet him with his customary “hey boy” that he used for both people and animals. He was very quiet and still as the euthenasia was administered and he slipped away peacefully.

My grieving has been complicated. We have also dealing with Sleepy being sick – that’s a story for another time, but she has been dealing with either vestibular disease or has had a stroke or tumor herself and we really thought we could be losing her too. Thankfully, she seems to be stable for now.

Looking back, Bubby hadn’t been himself for awhile. He was increasingly anxious and nervous and just seemed a bit off. I miss him terribly but am thankful he is now at peace. I picked up his ashes last week, and they are now in a place of honor in my china cabinet along with his beloved Skunk. RIP Bubs…we love you.

Karri Temple Brackett
August 29, 2025