Andersen's RV Park - Washington State's Finest Oceanfront RV Park - Long Beach, Washington

Last year, we bid a loving farewell to EBU, who gently departed the scene in early June. Eleven years is probably a long life span for a Heinz 57 canine that should have wound up in the pound, but instead got kicked out of a car in front of our house when he was 3 months old. That was the day his luck changed. Life with our family got off to a rocky start, but after a $100 visit from the dog psychologist (who worked with us, not EBU), things got better (for EBU, not us).

In our time together, EBU slept on numerous pieces of no-dogs-allowed furniture, consumed great quantities of boned, skinned, chicken breast (we suspected a beef allergy), had a fresh bowl of water every day of his life (in spite of his penchant for drinking from mud puddles), and trained the entire staff at Andersen's RV Park to give him a cookie when he wanted one.

He was happiest when he was with us. Except if we had a cozy fire going in the fireplace (he was afraid of fire). Or unless we were in the car between Seattle and Long Beach (he hated riding in the car). Or unless we were going for a walk (other dogs just seemed to know he was an easy attack). We always felt safe with him around. Because of Ebu, we never forgot to lock the door at night because we knew if we ever had an intruder it would scare him to death.

EBU will be greatly missed by a variety of pharmaceutical companies who sold canine ointments and creams for ear infections, foot pad rashes, goopy eyes, beach itch, belly staph, etc.

Who was the most devoted to whom was always a big question. For all of his life, he rejected soft, clean, well-appointed beds designed just for him only to sleep on the floor next to my side of the bed. It might have been an act of pet devotion or just part of his grand scheme of things, but from that vantage point, he would faithfully nuzzle me in the middle of every night until I threw my arm over the side of the bed and scratched and petted his head for a few minutes enticing him back to sleep.

EBU and I took enormous verbal abuse from family and friends who continually expressed doubts about his intelligence and mine for keeping him. The truth is, I was hooked the minute I looked into his big brown puppy eyes. He and I communicated in whatever strange human/animal language existed between us. He amused me. He kept me company. He was my sidekick. Mostly, I suspect, what I did for him was --- fill his food dish. And now I miss, terribly, doing that every day. Rest in peace, EBU.