I've talked about him a few times. Like his 16th birthday and how I got him.
Buster was a weird dog. When we first got him, he was a little over a year old they figured. They weren't too sure. Anyway, so he was a puppy. And when you first met him, and pet him, he would instantly pee. Didn't matter if he was outside, inside, had just gone pee...without fail he would pee.
Everyone was told to not pet him as soon as they came in. Wait about 20 minutes and he would be fine to pet.
Buster was a smart dog. We taught him how to sit, stay, shake and speak. Rolling over he never could master. And he could find a dog treat no matter where we hid it. As he got older, the tricks were still there but it took him a little longer.
Buster had a big personality. He had his weird little quirks. Whenever the doorbell rang on a Dominos commercial, he would bark and run to the door. Whenever Paul walked away from his food (which happened often), Buster was there to finish eating it. Because you know, food can't be left alone. He hated it when you touched his feet. He always barked at our friend Tom. He didn't mind wearing silly outfits that made the rest of us laugh.
Buster was my blanket model whenever I finished a new crochet project. He was always sad when I had to take them away to give to the owners.
Buster loved food. A lot. When we first got him, we gave him canned dog food. He broke out in a rash. Turns out he needed lamb and rice dog food. So we picked him up some. Eventually, they changed their formula so that the lamb and rice were in separate little "kibbles". His food bowl was at the bottom of the steps, and the morning after we gave him his new food, there were little rice puffs ALL OVER THE FLOOR. It went crunch when you walked. He picked through and ate all of the lamb ones, leaving the rice ones.
He also tried to eat a bag of raw potatoes.
He did eat a bag of hot dog buns on his birthday. Bag and all.
He ate a bag of cough drops. Cherry flavored. Wrappers and all.
He ate a box of pumpkin spice tea lights. I guess because they smelled so good.
He chewed up a bunch of my chapstick.
He ate 6 pieces of chocolate fudge. And lived.
My favorite...he ate my birthday cake. Or he tried to. My dad made it for me, and I had some between shifts at work. I took it home, and put it on the dining room table, in the middle. Then I went along with my business. I guess one of the chairs wasn't pushed in all the way. Dave went walking by it a few hours later and stopped when he saw Buster standing on the table (all 4 paws down) face first in my cake. It was chocolate too.
He lived through that as well.
He was a tough little guy. He survived a lot of things, like moving a few times, obnoxious trips to the vet because of his long floppy ears, and having to deal with a puppy named Zacky who loved his floppy ears (see below):
But he had been getting older. Didn't walk like he used to. Didn't see like he used to. Just wasn't himself.
So today, we took Buster on his last car ride. The vet's office was really nice. They gave us a few minutes with him before they gave him a sedative. Then he got his sedative and he wiggled his tail for us, gave a growl to say good bye, and went to sleep. A few minutes later the doctor came in, explained how it was going to work and in a minute or two, he was at peace. We stayed with him a while, and it was very hard.
I've had him forever.
So, to Buster I say good bye. I know you are happier now. Like you used to be when you stole Paul's food. And you are with Raja again.
Have fun little guy. We miss you a lot.
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