It was a warm summer day in July, 14 years ago, when I decided to go to Arizona Mills to shop and just get out of the summer heat. I would not return home that day with any clothes, but I would be returning with my new best friend.

During my day at the mall I walked past a window of the pet store. There was a dog that got my attention as he would place his paw on the window and it looked like he was waving to me. His eyes stood out to me; after meeting him, I decided to take him home with me.

I lived in a one-bedroom condo in Scottsdale at the time so it was a challenge to get him potty trained, but he learned quickly like everything I taught him. He had such a big personality; I decided to name him what fit his personality, and what he meant to me. I named him Buddy.

He was so full of life and would wake me up at 5:30 a.m. every day to start our day. He loved to go for walks and would mingle with other dogs and people no matter who they were or the size of the dog.

Buddy was a Shitzu poodle mix. I am a big guy who would probably more likely own a big dog. No. I was a proud “father” to a 30-pound pup.

The first time I took him to the dog park I took him off the leash and right away he went running full speed ahead to play with the other dogs. A few people came up to me and asked about him because he stood out with his energy and was such a cute puppy.

I started training classes for him and he became more disciplined, but I also noticed the bond we had was growing. I would sometimes get off work and take him for a 30-minute drive so he could peek his head out the window and take in the fresh air.

My sister invited Buddy and me to Carlsbad, Calif., for the weekend and to take her new Lab, Chloe, and Buddy to a dog park on the beach. Buddy was not a fan of the water but he had a great time on the sand.

The memory I have from that trip was when we were watching a movie after the dog park. Chloe came up to me, and Buddy jumped between her and me and basically backed her off. I told Buddy that was bad but I also saw jealousy because of the bond we had.

Buddy was such a good boy. He also had his bad moments and he knew when he did something wrong. I would call him out on the bad things, point my finger and yell out, “bad boy.” I would sit down and he would stare at me and wait for my arms to open and he would jump right into them and learn from his mistakes.

The wave I got from him when I first saw him in the window of the pet store continued as he got older. I would pull in from work and he would be there wagging his tail and waving his paw at me, which always brought a smile to my face.

Buddy bonded quickly with everyone and all dogs around him. When I first moved in with my wife and stepson, Buddy made himself right at home and bonded with Gina and Michael immediately.

This past year, Buddy started having seizures once a month. They started coming more frequently so we got him to the vet and started him on medication. Buddy was a fighter, as he beat a very serious situation three years ago.

Friday, Sept. 15, 2017, I woke up to a rough sound: Buddy was gasping for air. That morning my wife and I took him to the vet, and I ended up coming home without my best friend. I said goodbye to Buddy that morning. There was nothing that could be done for him, as his heart was failing.

I sat with him until the end and after he passed away I sat with him some more and just reminisced about what he was and what he meant to me. I got up and leaned over and kissed his head and said to him, “I will always remember you, and you will always have a big place in my heart.”

It’s been a rough summer, as you know from my previous columns. I will have more columns that will be much brighter than the past few columns you have read recently.

I owed this column to my best friend and I wrote this not to mourn his death but as a memory of who he was and what he meant to me. This column is a celebration of his life. I miss him very much and I will always remember him. Goodbye, Buddy. I am so happy you were part of my life for 14 years. I will never forget you. I love you, Bud!