Being Bun Bun, Part I

by Mr. Sunny Sunny Bun Bun

Last August, my person died.  I ended up at the shelter.  Then, a nice woman named Dixie drove me to my fur-ever home. 

At the time, I weighed 23 pounds and I high-centered on the step into the house.  Hu-mom thought she could help me lose weight.  Then, we found out I have Cushing’s Syndrome. 

I started dieting – eating green beans, sweet potatoes and little Deli Fresh bologna-like stuff.  I started exercising.  I lost 5 pounds.

At first, I couldn’t walk very far and hu-mom couldn’t carry me very far.  Aunt Dixie gave me a stroller.  But, day-by-day, I became stronger.  Now, I can keep up with my whole pack.  (Well, they slow down a little for me, but I can walk all by myself.)

I am Bun Bun.

In August, my name was just Sunny.  Sunny suits me because it defines my disposition.  I’m optimistic and happy. 

But, as I became more popular in my neighborhood, it seemed I needed something more dignified.  Hu-mom would say Sunny Sunny.  Then, our neighbor added the “Bun Bun.”  I am Mr. Sunny Sunny Bun Bun.

I no longer need to write about becoming Bun Bun because I am the Bun Bun now.  At first, I had a lot to woof about.  I was losing weight, attending a variety of functions in Park City, barking at hu-mom when she scooped up my sweet potatoes, and snoring at night.

Like me, my schedule isn’t as heavy now.  On any given day, I get up at 5:00 am, go outside and do my business.  While hu-mom’s coffee brews, she puts a little kibble in my bowl, green beans, and sweet potatoes.  She tops it off with a bit of Deli Fresh bologna-like log to make sure I have enough protein.  The whole time, I bark at her.  I dance on my back legs to encourage her to hurry.

Then, we take a quick spin around the block.  I walk by myself.  When we meet our neighbor and her dog, Daisy, I get in my stroller.  Like most people with mobility issues, I feel like a bit of a burden when I’m not in my stroller.  I’m not as fast as my Bernese Mountain dog sister and my poodle brothers.  I can’t keep up with the pack in the early morning.

Hu-mom teaches English at the local junior high school.  I spend my day on the sofa sleeping and chewing marrowbones.

But, as soon as the pack hears the garage door, we rush it and bark. 

Hu-mom leaves her bag on the bar stool, blows us kisses and goes straight to the icebox to make my lunch.  She’s a good hu-mom.

After lunch, we go for our second walk.  Because it’s warmer, it’s easier for me to move.  I’m still slower than the rest of the pack, but I can walk a whole mile unassisted.

As the Bun Bun, it’s my responsibility to make the neighbors smile.  Life is hard.  Everyone has a story.  It’s important to be compassionate and understanding.  At first, I surprised our neighbors.  I was big and slow.  I wasn’t very attractive because the Cushing’s made me lose my fur, too. 

I’m still a lot bigger than the average toy poodle. But, our neighbors are excited whenever they see me.  They smile, wave and rush to the ends of their driveways to say “hello.”  Everyone compliments me.

The truth is, no one thought I’d last this long.  Now, no one can imagine a life without me.

As the Bun Bun, I have a lot of responsibilities.  I maintain a Facebook page where I network with other recued animals and rescuers.  I cross-post and encourage people to foster adopt. I encourage healthy lifestyles.  (Except when we host dinner parties. . .then, I go off my diet a little bit.)  My weight loss and increased mobility is an inspiration. 

Plus, I have a brother, Gus.  Gus lived in a puppy mill for half his life.  We’re besties.  He’s more confident because of me. 

(Photo Credit:  Tanya Fox, Fox Spirit Photography)