It has been a week since Buster passed away, and I haven't quite known what (or if) to post. The house seems so quiet without him...Buster was quite the talker. Dobie is still wandering from room to room searching for her companion. Jeff and I realize more each day just how big a role Buster played in our lives...he was Jeff's reliable company when I was away.
So, I dug through some old images of Buster, looking for those silly moments that still crack me up. Buster was either right in your face (literally) or sleeping. Often, he combined these two, and would fall asleep with his nose inches from ours. His favorite spot in the world was either on our chest, or nestled into that cozy nook created by our arm, our neck, and the sofa.
In the days right before he died, Buster spent most of his time by the fireplace, and loved being rubbed as he slept. His little white paws slowly kneaded the air, just as he had done since the day I got him. Oh, Buster. Old Crooked Head. Butter. We miss you. We know that somewhere, there is a fireplace for you to curl in front of :)