For You Buster

He was so small that you could hold him while cupping your hands together, yet he took the leash attached to his tiny neck and grabbed it with his teeth. Buster was going to take himself for a walk, and apparently I was just along for the ride. Our friendship had officially begun.

I sat back in my car and felt the tears well up in my eyes. And if I'm being honest, they fell down my cheek too. You see it was eleven years later now, and I had to say goodbye to my buddy a little sooner than I expected. For just a moment I was back in that shelter where we picked out a black dog with the friendly eyes and Yoda ears. We picked him out on a hunch. Maybe you've been there too, different details, but the same story. You never think at the time that they'll find their way into your heart forever, but it happens, and it happened.

I don't have enough space or time to pay a proper tribute to Buster. The quick version is that I was home that summer for a few months after graduating college, so I got to have a vote on who the next family dog would be. I remember holding him in the back seat on the way home and getting hit with the unexpected feeling of awe by the power of new life. He was shy with people he didn't know at first, a trait he would carry for the rest of his life. And for the first few hours at least I was viewed with suspicion by the pint-sized guy. But he warmed up pretty quick after we found a tug rope that belonged to his new older dog brother, Sammy. Sammy was 3 years older and towered over Buster at the same time, but Buster put his mouth on one end and waited for Sammy to oblige. Finally a small, but gentle, tug came from Sammy, as if he didn't know what to make of the new guy who seemed to be ignorant of how things worked in this house. Little did he know that the little pup would grow up and eventually throttle him to the point that Sammy no longer wanted to play tug.

Days turn into weeks and months and years. I moved out that fall and started my career. I came home for Christmas and awoke to the strange sensation of something tickling my leg. I sat up to find Buster nibbling on my sweatpants, staring straight down, yet wagging his tail enthusiastically the whole time. I was quickly informed that this was an idiosyncrasy that belonged to this particular dog, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.  Came home again next summer and decided to do a sprint workout in an empty field not far from my house. My parents insisted that I should take Buster, saying he could run like the wind and would not stray. I didn't believe it till I saw it, and outside of a greyhound, he was as fast as any dog I've ever seen. Sleek yet all muscle. I also learned that this athletic ability could not be confined by the fence around the house I grew up in as he would simply climb his way up by doing a bizarre dog-like pullup until he reached the top and then leap off. This was concerning to Sammy, who was driven mad by not having this ability yet longed to be free too.

More time passes as the years flow on. I come by periodically, always grateful and excited to see the friend who will nibble my pants as soon as I walk in the front door. I move a few times and so does my family. I meet a girl and bring her home for the holidays. That New Years Eve we learn that Buster can howl like a wolf if you can simulate a high-tone similar to a police or tornado siren. My brother Dan pulled this off, and needless to say he is an interesting guy. The girl becomes my wife later on. Leilani was not exactly fond of dogs up to that point due to some mitigating factors from the past, but her outlook changes when she meets Buster and Sammy. I believe the New Years Eve howling sealed the deal on another dog person being added in this world. Thanks buddy.

It's been two days now since Buster passed, and I miss him dearly. It was surprising because he was still in great shape all the way up to last week. A nasal tumor can change things quickly for even the healthiest of dogs. Sammy is still alive at 14, but arthritic and deaf. He looked to Buster for his cues once he lost his hearing. We always thought Sammy would have been the first to go, and I guess that's why I was a bit stunned. But the Lord works in mysterious ways.

I said goodbye to Buster over the phone early that morning. A few hours later in my car I just gave it all to God. If you've lost a pet, you know the unique grief I'm talking about. And in that moment, my heart clearly heard this: "He's a great dog Nick. It's okay, Buster is with me now, and I'm taking good care of him." I don't pretend to know the mysteries of heaven, but I know the voice of the one I follow. I'm grateful for all his creation, including the friend he gave me that grabbed my leash, nibbled my pants and touched my heart.