Buster
I first met Buster in Mississippi many winters ago while I was visiting my sister. He was small with big eyes and an underbite, and he snored – even when awake. He lived nearby but he found what he needed at my sister’s house – food, attention, protection, and warmth at night when he curled up with her big dog outside. My sister decided to rescue Buster and our dad thought he’d like a little companion dog so she took Buster to live with Dad in West Virginia. Dad soon realized he didn’t want a young dog and without much coaxing I took Buster to live with me in North Carolina, where he met his brother, Bojangles, a large golden retriever who we’d adopted a year or two earlier. Buster weighed 22 pounds and Bo weighed 72 pounds. They were best friends. (Bojangles died in 2012.) During Buster’s life with me, he met many people and their pets. Buster was a good dog, mostly self-trained, gentle and polite. He traveled many vacations with us to NY, FL, and GA, in addition to MS and WV. Buster and I walked together every day of every year, rain or shine. We ate together – no matter what I was eating, I always gave him my last bite (sometimes a nibble, sometimes a full meal). We slept together – when Buster was younger he liked to burrough under my blankets and I was afraid he would suffocate. But now being older and deaf and almost blind, he preferred to stay on the floor, on one of his four dogbeds. His favorite spot was perched at the top of the stairs, where he could always see our coming and going. When Buster was younger, we played a hide and seek and chase game. When he was happy or excited or was waiting for a “cookie” from his dogtreat box, Buster had a certain way of moving his feet, like tapdancing – we called it “doing the buster.” Even in his old age he would do his Buster Dance. I miss my friend. I still expect him – I expect to see him, to get home so I can walk him, to hear his snoring, to anticipate his toenails tapping the floor, to see him from the corner of my eye. I’m not sad that Buster died; he lived a long happy life. I’m devastated for the way Buster died; he was killed by an unleashed pit bull dog as we walked together in our neighborhood. I’m trying hard to replace the nightmare of his death with good memories of his life. Buster was a sweetheart. I like to think the love was mutual. 🙂
