Editor’s note: This is the second of three columns based on abridged versions of readers’ stories about their pets in response to a “Bud’s View” column about the emotional stresses individuals and families face when a pet dies. That column, “The Pets That Rescue Us,” is available on The Focus page of The Press web site, Aug. 31, 2016.

If you read my Focus column regularly, you know I often referred to Blue, Bev’s and my pet English springer spaniel. Blue introduced himself to his readers in his first column. The column was called “Blue’s View.” Sound familiar?

Hi folks. My name is Blue.

I’m an English springer spaniel, although I don’t remember ever being in England. I’m black and white and quite handsome, if I do say so myself. I weigh about 46 pounds and I love to run. Although, my vet thinks I’m pedigree, I don’t have official papers. The only papers I remember were on the floor for house-training.

Bev’s boss found me wandering along the edge of the summit entrance road at Blue Mountain Ski Area on a cold March evening. Kathy, Bev’s boss, was on her way home.

She stopped her car when she saw me and tried to coax me to jump into her back seat. I was very cautious. After all, I had just been given the boot by my owners. Finally, she took off her belt and slipped it around my neck like a leash and we headed back to the office.

The staff fell in love with me, especially Bev. Her previous dog, Bear, had died about three years ago. She made a big fuss over me. I knew she liked me. I believe it was love at first sight! I found out later, Bud was not ready for another pup.

I had fun in the office. Bev took me home after work. When we entered the house, I took off racing down the hall and up the stairs to where Bud was watching TV. Bud sure was surprised when I pushed open the door, ran in and immediately began licking his left arm. I knew I had to charm him to stay.

By the time Bev entered the room, wearing a big wide grin, I think I had Bud hooked, too. Bev petted me while she explained to Bud why she had to bring me home. I remember her saying, “Isn’t he beautiful and he’s bright, too! Someone had to take him home. Bud called me Charlie.

Bev took me back to work the next day.

The staff in the office started calling me Blue. It made sense because we were at Blue Mountain. I liked the name Blue better than Charlie. Over the weekend the ladies checked the Internet for lost dogs, called local veterinarian offices and made signs with my picture to post in the area. I had no collar, ID chip or noticeable tattoo on my inner lip. I kept my four paws crossed all day, hoping no one would claim me. And guess what? I lived happily ever after with Bev and Bud.

I hope you will enjoy my stories.

In the last Bud’s View, Sandy Yoder of Bethlehem, shared a story about her dog Chelsea. She also included a poem. I did not have room for it at the time, but I feel it is worthy of print. Here is her poem:

An Empty Rug

The smell of coffee

Breaks through my sleep.

Morning, familiar,

Yet not so today.

There is an emptiness,

A void that permeates the air.

I slowly move to the kitchen,

Longing to hear the panting sound

That greeted me each day.

But all I see is an empty rug.

No longer do I glimpse

The eyes that followed my every move

And the gaze that melted my heart.

All I see is an empty rug.

The look of anticipation

At the sound of the word treat,

And the happiness that was you

Is gone.

And all I see is an empty rug.

I watched you struggle

To get to my side

And realized the pain

You were in.

How can I selfishly keep you here?

Lord, help me do what must be done.

And please stay near.

I carried you to your final journey,

Telling you everything would be OK

And returning home all I see

Is an empty rug

And the rug and I cry.

That’s the way my readers and I see it!

To schedule programs, hikes and birthday parties: 610-767-4043; comments: bbbcole@rcn.com

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&Copy; 2017 Bud Cole