Rest In Peace, Buster (November 2006 - September 2016)

On December 27, 2006, Pat's birthday, she brought home a puppy, a six-week old Boston terrier. Buster, which his name became, was Pat's birthday gift to herself. A relative of one of her colleagues was breeding Boston terriers and Pat had gone there to pick one dog  from the litter. She had noticed one of the dogs, he was a little shyer then than the rest. The kennel owner told Pat that the puppy was the only one with perfect markings, a white streak on the forehead, white socks on his front legs and white dots on his back feet. She decided to take the "pick of the litter" and brought him home.
I honestly admit that I was a little skeptical at first. We were both working and taking care of a dog is a big responsibility. However, it didn't take long before before I thought it was the best idea in the world.
The first couple of days he hardly ever left the utility room, which eventually became his room.  We brought him outside every so often so he would get used of doing his "business" outside.
The first couple of times when Buster was outside we weren't sure how our cat, Critter, would react. However, she immediately adopted Buster as her own kitten. The only thing she didn't do was feeding him. Every time she saw Buster she approached him and licked him all over to assure he was clean. Buster didn't know what to think, since he had never met a cat before.
Getting Buster house trained was challenging at first. We bought cover for the floor and soon, he learned, well almost, to use the covers in the utility room as his bathroom when we weren't home.
I worked just a couple of blocks from  home, so it was easy for me to scoot over to our residence to check on Buster and take him outside.

Buster became bolder and bolder. Soon our home, not just the utility room, was his home also.
After a few weeks he managed to climb the outside stairs up and down. He couldn't wait to get outside to investigate what was out there.
Also the indoors was a great place to be, according to him. There was so much stuff to chew on. Sometimes we got concerned about his habits since he thought it was OK to chew on everything from screwdriver handles he  found in the toolbox in the utility room, to electric cords.
We got wiser and wiser and managed to keep stuff out of his way, most of the time.
When we caught him chewing on something in the house, we fussed at him and and placed him in his bed in the utility room. Soon enough he learned his first phrase, "Buster, go to your house." And off he went. Eventually we didn't even have to tell him anything. When he was found  with "his hand in the cookie jar" he retired to the utility room without us having to tell him anything.
At home he had his dedicated spots. He always slept on his own in the utility room. When Pat and I watched TV, he was always with us in the sofa with us. He had his designated cushion, which was covered with a blanket. Whenever he decided to look for a more comfortable spot in the sofa we  told him, "Buster go to your place", which he did after giving us an accusing look.
Sometimes, when he was home alone, he would sneak out from his room and have a seat in the sofa. Sometimes he got surprised in the sofa and had a guilty look on his face. Other times he escaped back to the utility room before we unlocked the backdoor. He was usually sitting in his basket with a "I was here all the time" look on his face. However, a quick check of his warm spot in the sofa, confirmed his "guilt."
It was funny to see the different expressions he had. When we fist got Buster we read up on the breed one of the characteristics was the expressive face. Others included loyalty. Buster was very protective and always kept an eye on what was going on outside.

I mentioned our cat, Critter earlier. They remained good buddies over the years until she passed away of old age. Sometimes when we all were on the front porch Buster tried to aggravate her by dancing around Critter, like a boxer with fancy foot work. Every once in a while Buster would pretend to bite, which he never did. Critter was just sitting there watching Buster, until she had enough of his foolishness. Then she would swat him one time on the nose, but never with the claws out. Buster always looked stunned and immediately stopped. Other times they were just rubbing against each other like the two good buddies they were.

For a while Buster also had a girl friend, a brown Labrador retriever, named Belle. She was an old dog, but visited Buster ever so often. When we saw Belle outside we would tell Buster, "Belle is here." He rushed to the window and started crying when he saw her. We let Buster out and they played outside for a while and eventually Belle walked home. One time, when we hadn't noticed Belle outside, she was sitting out there barking, waiting for Buster to come out and play.
Buster seemed to love the Belle sessions. When he didn't play with her, he played with us. He had a favorite toy, a green rubber ring, which he got when he was just a few months old. When he needed entertainment he brought us his green ring and placed it in our laps so we could throw it.

Over the years Buster gave us so much joy. He was a good and obedient dog (mostly) and never caused us any major problems.He stayed healthy most of the times. He had been to the veterinary a couple of time before he got ill a few weeks ago. On one of those occasions he was bad off. He didn't seem to be able to digest his food. However, he never needed any medications, but was recommended by Dr, Cheramie and Jennings Animal Hospital to eat special food for a while. That helped him and he was soon back to his old self again.
Just before Labor Day we noticed that Buster was constantly panting. He seemed to be short of breath. He also had a cough. We brought him back to the vet, who noticed a murmur on Buster's heart. Dr. Cheramie prescribed some pills for Buster. One of them was for his heart and another was a diuretic to remove fluid from Buster's system. Already the day after we could notice a difference. His breathing was more normal, and he had gotten back the glint in his eyes. His cough was gone also. He continued to take his pills and all was well when he finished his cure, which was just a few days ago. However, Saturday we noticed he started panting again. A day later he also started his coughing. We decided that first ting of order Monday was to contact the veterinary and make an appointment. He seemed to be doing so well on the meds, so we were hopeful that he could get back on the medicine and perhaps stay on them.

Sunday evening when we were watching TV we could tell that Buster really needed to see an animal doctor. It seemed like he knew it too. He refused to lay down in his spot on the sofa, but insisted to sitting in between us instead. We didn't tell him to go to his place but instead tried to make him as comfortable as possible.
Before bed time I brought him outside a last time and he went out and did his business in our back yard.  I was standing on the front porch watching him. When he was done he came galloping back like he always did. Little did I know that I was the last time I brought Buster outside. The next morning I found him dead in the living room, where he peacefully had died.
Buster's last resting place is in our back yard where he is buried with his beloved green rubber ring.
Buddy, we didn't seem to keep you long enough. Thanks for everything you gave us.