After almost twelve years, my family and I are saying goodbye to an old friend tomorrow. Buster, our silly old bear, has been a loyal companion, protector, and friend. As I write this, he is lying on the kitchen floor, ears perked back, eyes watching every move I make, but he just isn't the same dog. Age has taken its toll as well as a tumor that makes him look as if he has swallowed a basketball. I take a few moments in between memories to scratch behind his ears where he loves it best. I wish he would just close his eyes and take that final breath, but if he doesn't then we've decided to put him to rest.
Buster is a Pembroke Corgi, not a breed everyone recognizes right away. He's a tri-color with a perfectly shaped white diamond on the back of his neck. I remember the day we picked him up at a farm in Nacogdoches like it was yesterday.
He has definitely had some grand adventures in his lifetime. Buster was never afraid of the water and enjoyed a good swim once in a while. I remember one occasion when we were camping on Lake Sam Rayburn. We had gone out in the boat that morning, and of course Buster never missed a chance to tag along. My two boys wanted to find a swimming spot, so we pulled the boat up to a little island and tied off. We made a small camp and put out the lawn chairs. Buster would run up and down the sandy spots near the water barking and playing and watching out for Addison and Taylor. It wasn't unusual for us to get in the boat and troll around fishing and leave Buster to guard camp. But this one time, he didn't want to stay behind. We were a pretty good distance from shore when we spotted his pointed ears and long snout sticking out of the water. His short, stubby legs paddled furiously toward our boat. From then on, Buster joined us like one of the crew.
Buster was a master squirrel chaser. Before we moved a couple of years ago, he spent his days keeping squirrels out of the backyard. You could always tell when he had one in his sights. He would crouch down low to the ground, which wasn't that far for him, and lay his ears back in stealth mode. And oh, he was patient. I've seen him stare down a chattering squirrel for what seemed like forever, only to suddenly burst forth like a super sonic rocket, sending the squirrel into an all-out panic up a tree. Now it must be said that Buster never caught a squirrel, but he tried his best and would probably agree if he could talk that those were the glory days. At our new house, there aren't any squirrels to case, so he took up harassing the mocking birds that tried to make our backyard their oasis. This proved to be more of an annoyance than anything for Buster because the birds simply flew away.
Our swimming pool became something of a personal watering hole and cool down spot for Buster. He loved to get his feet wet in the shallow end during the dog days of summer. While we swam he would run around the pool as if he wanted to jump in, but always changed his mind at the last minute. He was happy to simply "give sugars" from the edge if you would let him, and Adrian and I always did. When we barbecued, Buster was our chief taste tester. He would sit near the grill, looking up at us with those big, brown eyes, and wait to be handed a morsel of steak or chicken.
In his later years, Buster never missed a chance to join me on the patio in the evenings. I would recline in my chair with a glass of wine or cup of coffee, and he would sit next to me. We've seen many sunsets together and as many full moons. He never said much, but I could always count on him to be there. It won't be the same without him.
I've had a lot of dogs in my lifetime, but Buster ranks among the very best. Goodbye, old friend. Thank you for sharing your life and bringing us such fond memories and happiness.
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