When I was in highschool I just needed to have a dog, I thought every man needs a dog. So my dad, a friend of mine and I headed to Faith to pickup a pup. When we arrived to the single wide in the middle of a hay field, we hoped out and headed inside. There were about 4 to 5 black and white little shits jumping around in a side room. I went in to pick one out and instantly fell in love with this very snuggly female pup and was pretty dead set on taking her home. My dad convinced me I didn't want a female pup and this one male keeping to himself with a black spot covering his left eye and ear, seemingly the alpha of the pack of pups, was the right one for me. After just a few moments with him I was also convinced, he was smart and had that look in his eyes. We loaded him up and headed down the road towards home and after a few miles the pup threw up all over my lap, if you know me and puke I was disgusted but gladly cleaned it up, being a proud dog owner. We got home and I decided that this dogs name was Buster, why? I have no idea but I wasn't letting dad name this dog just like the rest of our animals of the past. (Dad usually nailed a good pet name)

Fast forward some time and my dad ends up losing his work partner and best friend, Smitty. Before you know it I'm waking up to head to school and Buster is nowhere to be found, dad stole him, he's turning him into a logger dog. Buster wasn't like my dads other dogs in the woods. He wasn't a big adventurer, his nose was never the best, he didn't go out and get himself in any trouble. His place was supervising from inside the pickup. He loved going to work with Dad and having something to do, he quickly became my dads dog. There was no separating the two, they went everywhere together. Dad would always joke, "nobody asks how I'm doing, it's always how's Buster?". Buster had this thing about him where everybody he met would end up falling in love with him. Whether it was men in the woods who were just flabbergasted at how well Buster behaved or women in the bar he would go up to and instantly roll onto his back or put his head in their lap and smooze.

Buster spent a lot of years taking care of my dad. Would never leave his feet and as soon as Dad stood so did Buster. I don't remember exactly when I realized it but I didn't go to Faith that evening to pick up a dog. I was picking up my dads guardian angel, he kept my dad alive for years. He was the best dog in the world. Never complained unless someone was smoking a cigarette. Would go with you anywhere and do anything. He was truly mans best friend, one of the bros. Not to mention the love he had for our girls, it drove him nuts not being the center of attention once he moved back in with me but he took his roll seriously as always.

Thank you for everything, Bug Turd. You'll be talked about for forever. Take care of Dad for me.