Billy in Brief — The Tale of a Unique Rescue Dog

As a half-Alsatian / half-Corgi mongrel, Billy had a distinctive look indeed. He was my first pet, and this is his story…

Billy Buntin — the first dog in my family.

Recently, I posted an article about Daisy — my three-legged wonder pup. I intend to post regular diaries about her life and travels. Before I dig into Daisy diaries, I’d like to spend a little time dwelling on the past. Daisy is far from my first pet, and my old dog — Billy — deserves just as much reverence. This piece is for him.

Eventually, I’ll write about Mork/Mindy; a pink-eyed, white mouse. It was named both Mork and Mindy because the pet store owner couldn’t determine a gender. I wouldn’t dare discuss pets without mention of Douglas Crombles either, my faithful butterscotch guinea pig; now sadly departed. Both will get their own articles, and I’ll probably even detail my short time with Charly — a runaway rescue cat, with a Prodigy song for a namesake, who sadly fled the household.

But this article is for Billy Buntin — a unique soul, and my brother.

The oldest digital picture we can find of Billy, which shows him resting with my human brother — Scott.

Memories grow misty as age takes its hold. I have no idea how old I was on the day of the drive to the shelter, though I estimate I was around seven. If so, it would have been 1997 — the greatest year for pop culture on record. Take a look at a list of music, film, TV and game releases from that year, and you’ll see that I’m completely serious. It’s a golden year, blessed by some astral muse. I imagine my assumption is true, because only a year as magical as 1997 could bring Billy along with it.

My brother and I were in the back of my father’s car, as we drove in some undetermined direction towards a mysterious “surprise”. Quite frankly, I wasn’t that excited. We had very little money as a family, and I was aware of it; even as a child. Most of our previous secret treats had consisted of trips to the cinema, or cheap action figures from the local corner shop. I wasn’t ungrateful — I adored my plastic Power Rangers. But, they left me somewhat underwhelmed that day, in the foamy comfort of my car seat. I expected — at best —…