Gerry Goldstein: Unleashing ugliness with dogged cruelty

When the story broke recently that South Dakota’s governor shot her German wirehaired pointer after its exuberance ruined a pheasant hunt, cancer was stealing the life of our beloved Tibetan terrier, Buddy.

That’s why the disturbing admission, in a memoir by Republican Kristi Noem – a vice presidential wannabe under dog-hostile Donald Trump – slammed us beyond comprehension. 

Noem wrote that she shot “Cricket” – at 14 months old hardly beyond puppyhood – 20 years ago, after the dog spoiled a hunt by “going out of her mind with excitement, chasing all those birds and having the time of her life.”

What were we to make of this, as we watched vitality drain from our own companion who for more than a decade had loved us, entertained us, annoyed us, warmed us in bed, and whose limpid brown eyes had so often locked onto ours with abiding devotion?

Noem said her dog had an “aggressive personalty.”

And how often had we seen the normally peaceable Buddy, when out on the hobby farm we call Shalom Acres, having the time of his life stalking chipmunks and rabbits – and kindling mayhem on the rare occasions when he caught one.

At first horrified by such behavior, we eventually understood. Buddy was just a dog being a dog.

Noem’s hideous recitation dominated news reports the day that, with one last stab at hope, we drove Buddy to Ocean State Veterinary Specialists, the East Greenwich animal hospital. Clinicians there – with sensitive and timely attention often lacking in the human medical system – had already given our boy precious, pain-free extra weeks.

There were tests that final day, and then the expected but unbearable news: Buddy’s quality time had ebbed, and further attempts at extending it would be unsuccessful and onerous.

We had hoped over those last days that Buddy would gift us by managing the end on his own. But some inner candle still guttered, and he left the decision to us — we who had been his universe.

We longed to take him home, but we knew doing that would have been more for our benefit than Buddy’s.

Between the hospital and our place lay Buddy’s primary caregiver, Greenville’s NorthPaws Veterinary Center. There, in a private, non-clinical room where many pet lovers have choked out anguished goodbyes, we did the same.

Buddy seemed accepting. He stretched out quietly on a soft couch and his final moments were peaceful and dignified, leaving us heartbreak that in life he would never have wished upon us.

Governor Noem wrote that her execution of Cricket illustrated her willingness to do anything “difficult, messy and ugly.” 

“Ugly” well describes not just her actions, but also the twisted ethos behind them. That’s the simple truth of it, which she can take straight from us, and from the achingly remembered spirit of Buddy, prince of Shalom Acres.

Gerry Goldstein (gerryg76@verizon.net), a frequent contributor, is a retired Providence Journal editor and columnist.