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Sadly, on July 24, 2002, we had to have Buster put to sleep. He was age 11 at the time. When we were first given him (his previous owner was planning to have him put to sleep then) nine years ago, he came with a couple of medical problems. He had developed a lesion on one eye that had caused him to loose sight in that eye, and he had a serious ear infection that apparently had not been treated.
Although there was nothing that could be done about his eye, we had our vet treat the ear problem with an operation and antibiotics. Although it seemed to improve, it was always draining, and never completely cleared up. Those of you who have visited the farm may recall seeing Sierra licking his ear to clean it, a very endearing behavior that she initiated on her own—they were good friends. Unfortunately, the infection got into the bones in his jaw, and, although it appeared to not cause him any pain, (and never seemed to affect his appetite!), it ultimately got to the point where we felt it was best to put him to sleep.
Buster was a cherished member of our family, who distinguished himself by his loyalty. Wherever we were, there was Buster. If we went for a walk while he was asleep in the barn, he would track us down, stubby nose to the ground, when he realized we were gone. A couple of years ago, we and some guests took a walk that involved climbing down some really steep terrain to get to the Davis Mine Brook, one of the boundaries of our farm. Because of the difficulty of the terrain, we decided to leave Buster at home.
Only when we had returned home (via a car we had left down on Rt. 8A), did we get a phone call from the neighbor whose house we had parked at, asking us if we owned a little black and white dog. We said that we did, and said we would come down and get him. The neighbor told us that he wasn’t there, but that he had shown up (nose to the ground) looking for us after we had left, and that when he couldn’t find us, had left. Since we had returned home in the car, we were afraid that he had lost our scent and that he might get lost looking for us. To be on the safe side, we piled into the car and went looking for him near where he was last seen. After calling for him for about 15 minutes (he was hard of hearing due to his ear problem), we gave up and returned home thinking that we would just call all the neighbors and ask them to keep an eye out.
Much to our surprise, when we pulled into the dooryard, there was little Buster, apparently having found his way home by going back up the incredibly steep terrain that we had not wanted to tackle ourselves. No small feat for a small dog with stubby legs, and only one good eye (but a lot of heart and a great nose).
We put Buster to rest on the farm wrapped in his favorite bed, next to other dear pets Hildegard (the German Shepard Norma had when we first met), Xanadu (the seal point Siamese that used to sleep with our son Jubal from the time he was an infant), and Tanya (a sweet Irish Setter that we had rescued from a very unhappy life as an apartment dog).
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