One of the big selling points of this house was that we’d have room for a dog. A big dog. A really big dog. So after we moved, and got settled in, and the kids started school, I finally got moving on finding one.
I spent a lot of time over the summer browsing. I knew we wanted a large used dog with low mileage. Over and over I kept coming back to one dog on Petfinder. He was an hour and half away, which didn’t seem like too far, and it sounded like the lady that had him knew him well. Unfortunately, when I called, she said the dog had disappeared ‘last week’.
I was very disappointed, but started the search over. Then I noticed a dog listed at the shelter near where my first pick had gone missing. Although it was the same mix, I didn’t think it was the same dog as the picture was blurry, and the listing was for a female. I decided to go look anyway, hoping it would be similar in temperment to what we wanted.
Once I saw Buster, I knew without a doubt this was the dog from the first listing. He has a very distinctive face, and up close it was very clear I’d found my first pick. It was lucky that I happened to go that weekend. It turned out he had been at the shelter for almost 2 months, and was due to wear out his welcome in just a few days.
Part Australian Shepherd, part Labrador, wired completely incorrectly. He’s a great dog, but something clearly doesn’t work quite right in his brain. Not in a ‘he’s going to snap and eat the children’ kind of way. More in a ‘he has no taste in people whatsoever’ way. My father, who visits fairly often since he has equipment stored here, is treated very warily. He always has a treat for Buster, but if I’m not there, Buster won’t have any part of it. On the other hand, Buster would have gone home with the creepy insurance sales guy. For some reason, he just seemed like a lot of fun.
The kids love him, and he’s turned out to be a very good dog. Puppies are awfully cute, and I won’t deny that I would have like one. But now I can’t imagine getting anything but a shelter dog.