Now that you have read the first part of this never ending saga of two little Westies who wanted nothing more out of life than to be loved, you are about to embark on an even more twisted, sadistic road that the rescuers of these dogs NEVER thought in a million years they would ever go down . . . After returning from the desert that day, unable to retrieve the bodies of Buddy and Wally, our rescuer could not rest. Something deep within her gnawed at the very center of her being. "This can’t be all of the story... there has to be more." Something pushed her forward, not to give up, to believe in what she was doing, feeling and hoping. Phone calls were made to individuals that would investigate the man who left them to die. Soon, everything began to change and the twists and turns on the road to get to the bottom of these two lost Westies came to an abrupt and surprising end! One that will make your heart rejoice, as well as, break in half . . .
Part Two: Back to the desert . . .
The bog was dry enough to walk on, so I went out to get the bodies and to my surprise what I thought were the Westies were salt formations! Even upon closer inspection they looked just like Westies. Then I felt myself panic. I knew they had to be there, somewhere. There were some guys out there fourwheeling, so I was telling them about Wally and Buddy, when one guy pointed and said, 'There is a dog right over there. Is that one of them?' It was. I must have walked right past him before, twice! He blended in very well. I almost didn't see him. We looked all over and couldn't find the other one. I think it's possible he got saved. In fact, I have this little niggling suspicion that the jerk still has him. After all, he had only wanted one in the first place, but agreed to take both because the rescue wouldn't place them seperately . . . It was really hot out there and we had a lot of space to cover . . . I searched until I was sick and had to go back. If I hadn't gotten sick, I would have gone further . . . But I just couldn't do it . . . None of us could.
The memorial had fallen down, so I took it and put it where I found the body. I put your poem there, too. The guys are going to keep a look out for the other one. If they find him, they'll let me know and I'll go get him. The stench was enough to make you throw up. We had to drive all the way back with the windows wide open, and he was secured in a garbage bag. If we find the other one, I'll take extra garbage bags. Now I have to see what the rescue wants to do with the body (click here) . . . and figure out which one he is . . . He's wearing a purple collar.
I talked to *R* and she said that the one wearing the purple collar is Buddy . . .
...*R* is on her way to Elko right now. I think the jerk still has Wally, so she's staying there over night and visiting him bright and early tomorrow morning, then we'll meet out in the desert. She wants to see where Buddy died and pay her respects at the memorial, and I want to take more pictures. I picked up this little rescue boy from a woman (click here) in SLC. The timing is perfect to when Wally and Buddy 'disappeared', but I dunno. He doesn't look at all like Wally, to me, but he has birthmarks in the same places, and she said Wally has a very different bark, kind of a half bark. Last night when I got home, he barked a bit. It was more like a squeaky bark.I think I'll be taking him tomorrow to see if he is Wally, just in case. He'll stay in the air conditioned truck with her dogs. There aren't many Westies here, and he was found shortly after they were abandoned. The man from Elko could have gotten tired of him and abandoned him here off I-80. He was found very near there. If this is him, the man from Elko took his collar off and cut down his coat so there would be no way to identify him. Of course, he wouldn't think anyone who knew what happened would ever find him. I'm trying not to think it's him, though, it's such a long shot . . . It's very hot here today. That could be good out there in the desert, if it keeps the earth dry enough to walk on. I hope we find him tomorrow, one way or another. If we don't, I think it's time to give up the search. This will be my third time out and it's a 6-7 hour for *R* . . . I'm tired and it's very disappointing each time, and we've covered the whole area. Not to mention, heartbreaking all over again, thinking what they went through out there. Before I forget, did I tell you that I now have the man from Elko's full name, social security number, place of work, the fact that he filed for bankruptcy in '99, and where he lived before this address? How's that for investigating? Well, I'd better get offline, *R*'s supposed to call when she gets to Elko to let me know what time to meet her, then I can ask her if she thinks my little rescue dog is Wally. He has a bit of an underbite, and I don't think Wally did. Buddy had an overbite, and *R* mentioned that, but not an underbite.
BUDDY'S ALIVE!! BUDDY'S ALIVE!! BUDDY'S ALIVE!! We had quite an adventure today, and I just got home. The dog is Buddy! Can you believe it? What are the chances? The girls are coming to *R*'s tomorrow night to see him. They will be the final ones to say it's really him. *R* is 99% sure, but she's not absolutely sure which one he is. Well, everything points to his being Buddy. I just knew that if I followed my feelings we'd find him. What a bizarre story this has turned out to be. I can hardly wait to tell people. The whole Westie world will rejoice, although sad for Wally. Very sad. This means he died alone out there. Buddy kept pulling me to the spot where Wally died and this just broke my heart all over again. He knew *R* and her dogs immediately, but he kept coming back to sit by me (at a fenced park we went to). He knows I love him. The girls are absolutely thrilled. We stopped at Arby's so that *R* could call them. They had no idea I even had a rescue dog here because I didn't want to get their hopes up, so it was a complete surprise. They all screamed, and *R* cried. I had a few tears a couple of times, myself, especially when I had to say goodbye to him.
We followed *R* to Elko and confronted the POS (piece of s**t). My friend had to hold us down. A few times she thought we would rip his throat out. At one point, *R* asked him if he wanted to change his story (we hadn't told him about finding Buddy) and he said no (we had made him tell us the whole story because there were 3 of us as witnesses). Then *R* said, 'We found Buddy.' The blood drained from his face. He just said 'did you'. Well, he thought there was no way in hell we could have, so I don't think he really believed us at that point. Then I said, 'He's alive.' My friend said she had to look at me because it wasn't me saying it. I sounded so sinister and dramatic, like it came all the way from my gut, and my hands even came up like I was ready to kill. I didn't even realize what I was doing. So, then I said 'He's alive and I have him in my van'. Then *R* lost it and went for him, calling him a f*****g liar, excuse the language, then I jumped in calling him names, and he screamed at us to get off his property. We did, but we told him we were going to go press charges right now . . . he's shaking in his boots, I hope.
As far as we can figure out, he dumped Buddy in SLC, he didn't tell us he had a son and Buddy probably bit him. He hacked at his beautiful haircut so no one would recognize him, took off his collar and dumped him. Back on the road Wally probably was crying, whining, and barking. So the jerk stops to go pee (yeah, right) and Wally jumps out looking for Buddy, his lifelong companion, after all, he just witnessed his father being dumped and disappearing behind the truck. He could have just gotten tired of Wally's crying so he decided to put him out. Either way he drove off and left the dog in the desert to die. He didn't think we would have ever looked for them, let alone find them! Especially so far away in SLC. Buddy is one traumatized little boy. The thing is, the jerk realizes now that we know he's a lying sack of s**t ('scuse the language). He doesn't know the laws on abandonment and he doesn't know if we can really get him. He's worried - and he should be. He has a tattoo of a gang member on his hand, so I'm guessing that's part of his past. Who knows what else he's done that he might be worried about. We wouldn't be at all surprised if he ran now. We caught him in several lies, and he knows it. Maybe he did hang around for 45 minutes, but it doesn't matter, because the minute he left, he signed Wally's death warrant. He said he went back in the morning and searched for 4 hours. We know that isn't true, because he would have found Wally. Wally would have still been alive, and if he'd called, he would have come. He was not stuck in the bog as I first thought. No, the tracks I saw were Wally's searching for something, maybe the jerk, Buddy, scratching for water, shelter, but he was searching until his tracks came to rest where we found him lying. As for the jerk, his footprints showed just how hard and far he searched...the POS stayed 'maybe' 10 minutes, 20 tops. He didn't go very far at all. (I've marked up a picture to show how far he went.) I'm still just sick over this. It was so hard giving Buddy back, and we are grieving over Wally. I'll really miss Buddy. I feel like we have been together for sometime now . . . it was premeditated abandonment with Buddy, but maybe not Wally.
So there you have it - Buddy (click here) is alive, not Wally. It just breaks our hearts . . . and you just can't stop wondering why he even tried to adopt them? Why didn't he just call and give them back? . . . Why? Why, why, WHY!
I guess the jerk is the only one who knows the answers to those questions - and to think he's raising a child . . . Lord help us all.
In Search Of Truth, Justice
and the West Highland White Terrier Way