Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Buster

Buster and my arm (This pic was so bad of me I had to cut me out of it

I was just informed about an hour ago that Buster, who was our Min Pin died after being hit by a car last night. She took him to the emergency vet, where he died a half hour later.

Buster was the only thing my ex wife wanted after the honeymoon. She wanted a dog, and she even let me pick out the breed. We got Buster, before I even know what a pug really was.

Buster Loved me, but he loved her more. He was her dog. And I just remember him as being the biggest wuss of a do I had ever seen. He truly was afraid of his own shadow. And we have many stories of him but the one I will remeber most was the first time he was taken to the emergency vet. The same place he fought his last battle with life.

Sarah and I were trying to get our apartment straightened up. He kept trying to jump into Sarah's lap. SHe kept sitting him back down on the ground while we were picking up. She reached over and picked him up to move him, and let him go about an inch of the ground.

When he hit the ground he let out a yelp that was the most horible ear piercing thing I had ever heard. Ar..Ar... Ar... over and over again. Sarah and I gathered him up to the bed room. We layed him on the bed, as he continued his cry. We looked him over, I tried to feel around and find a broken bone. I was not sure, but every time we touched his little leg, he would squeel louder.

We stepped back away from him to see if he would get up on his own and move around on his own. The way he got up, he made us think he may have dislocated his little shoulder. We rushed him to the emergency vet.

I held that dog while Sarah drove like a bat out of hell to the emergency vet place. He seemed to be doing better, but if I moved him, he would do his cry. Tears were running down Sarah's face. She felt so bad because she thought it was her fault.

We carried him into the vets office. And the longer we sat the more Buster seemed to be better. The Dr. told us to come in. He would be right back, and we needed to put the muzzle on him.

We but it on him and sat him on the table. And this was like a wake up call for our little pup. This muzzle thing was pissing him off. Suddenly his broken shoulder was a minor annoyance to him. This muzzle was his sworn enemy now.

By the time the doc got in there again I was giving this little punk of a dog dirty looks. He was fine. Not even a sprain. No xray needed. They gave us a few pills for inflamation and sent us home.

The DOctors only response. The Smaller the Dog, the Bigger the baby.

I have missed him, and I feel sorry for Sarah and Tiki, who he lived with since the divorce. I hope Tiki will be alright. It just seems as the years drag on more stuff from my life goes with it.

I will miss you Buster VonBarron Wood