One Year Old Buster

One year old Buster is way more of a handful than 10 year old Chubby. He knew exactly what to do. He knew exactly what I was saying to him. He sat with me, cuddled up to me on the couch, slept at the end of my bed for 10 years.

Chubby was like an old pair of shoes.

Buster is like the fastest training shoe.

Buster is going to take some work.

He runs in the park, when I say, “Go, go, go,” like Chubby used to.

He jumps for sticks. He leaps around. He has mental attacks, like Chubby once did.

It’s like having an invigorated Bulldog. I am constantly saying to him, “Oh that’s right, you do that.”

We run together in the park. When we go passed the skateboarders making that terrible racket on the hard surfacing. We run to the grass, although he runs happily once he hits the soft, green grass, too.