"We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment." ~George Eliot

He was just a dog.  He came to live with our family in 2001, when he was about a year old, and he came with "issues."  When we tried to play with him, he would cower, and tuck his tail.  We think he was probably punished for playing as a puppy.  Jeff finally gained his trust enough that Buster would occasionally play a game of tug, but he always did so with his tail tucked - he never quite got over his anxiety in that way.

But even though he wouldn't play, he was great at cuddling.  His favorite place to be was in someone's lap, or curled up against someone's back as they slept.

He loved his kids, but they left every day and went to school.  Buster never liked to be left alone, so he soon became "my" dog - he followed me everywhere I went, always underfoot.  Sometimes I would accidentally step on him, he would yelp, but immediately come wriggling over to me, wagging his tail, as if to say, "It's ok - I know you didn't mean it!"  When I would be cooking in the kitchen, he would curl up and sleep on the mat by the sink.  He usually slept in his bed in our bathroom, but when Jeff was gone out of town overnight, Buster would curl up right next to my side of the bed, as if to say, "I don't want you to be lonely, and I'm here to protect you."

 Next to sleeping and staying close by my side, Buster's favorite thing was to go for walks.  The kids would get him all pumped up by asking him, "Do you want to go for a walk?"  And Buster would excitedly turn circles by the door until the walk ensued.

He also enjoyed getting the newspaper every morning back in the days when we subscribed to the printed newspaper.  Jeff would ask him if he was ready to go get the paper, and his reaction was the same as described above.

He was just a dog.  But he was our dog - my dog - for 15 years.  During those years, the kids grew up and left home, other dogs (and hamsters) came and went, we experienced sickness and death, joy and celebration, and Buster was there through it all.   He loved us - his family.  Whenever we would "horse around," tickling or wrestling with each other, Buster would bark and growl as if he was worried that someone was seriously getting hurt.  And no matter how long (or short) we were gone from home, Buster always greeted us on our return like it was the happiest moment of his life.

Last week we said goodbye to Buster.  He had declined in health over the past few years - he was deaf, mostly blind, and had quit eating.  He wasn't able to go on walks anymore, or even cuddle with his humans.  He slept most of the time, and when he was awake, he seemed to be uncomfortable.  He no longer ran to the door to greet us - most of the time, he wasn't even aware we had left.  So last week, we did the merciful thing, and we let him go.

Yes, he was just a dog.  An animal.  But I sure have missed him this week.  Buster taught me a lot in his 15 years.  I couldn't find the source of this quote, but think about "what a beautiful world it would be if people had hearts like dogs."  What if I enjoyed every little moment to the fullest, even something as simple as going outside to get the newspaper?  And what if a walk around the neighborhood invoked the same wonder in me?  Imagine how it might help if I could silently snuggle up with someone I love in a moment of hurt when words fail me?  Or how it might make someone feel if I quietly walked by their side in the difficulties of life?  Wouldn't it be wonderful if, when we get "stepped on" by others, we could immediately forgive, not holding a grudge, and forget - REALLY forget it ever happened?  And if we were fiercely protective of each other, think about the hurt feelings we could avoid.

Robin Davidson wrote, "The Lord in His wisdom gave us three things to make us to make life bearable; humor, hope and dogs.  But the greatest was dogs."  I think God gave us much more than that to not only make life bearable, but enjoyable.  And I'm not sure I would go so far as to say the greatest of those was dogs.  But they do have their place, and I'm thankful God gave us our four-legged, furry companions.  Especially Buster.  He was just a dog, but he served us well.  Rest easy, old friend.