We were lucky enough, thanks to our vet, to find a place west of Denver that has a large pasture area that is used for nothing else other than pet burial. Our vet called in a favor and they stay around later than usual on Saturday afternoon so that we could make our way out there and bury Buster. They were such sweet people. We found a place under a shade tree and they dug the grave for us. We laid Buster in the ground at 6:11, Saturday evening.
I rescued Buster from a shelter around 3 years ago when he was just a puppy. They had found his mother along with two puppies under a bridge. They were all sick and malnourished. His mother and brother died at the shelter and he was left all alone. I had decided, on a whim, to get a pet and figured I'd get a dog from the shelter rather than buy some pure breed. I fell in love with him the minute I saw him! They told me he wouldn't get much bigger than he was at the time (lie) and that he had a calm temper (lie). I picked him up to play with him and when I set him back down he started WAILING and wouldn't stop until I went back and got him. I carried him around for pretty much the rest of the day and we were attached to each other from that point on. He slept with me from day one (until Wolfie moved in, that is) and was just a completely awesome, loving, protective, obedient dog. He had such a great personality and kept us laughing all the damn time.
I've been a wreck the past couple of days. As part of our morning routine, Wolf would take him walking in the mornings while I was in the shower and when they got home he would nose his way into the bathroom and peek in the shower and I would give him kisses on the nose. When I realized this morning that he wouldn't be peeking in the shower...I could hardly finish.
I'm going to miss him terribly and don't think I'm going to be "ok" for a long damn time. This is my absolute favorite picture of him. Miss you, baby boo...