Buster Pouts

After my father's 14-year-old dog Jazzie died, a "funny beagle thing" (as one of the vets calls him) that had adopted us a few months earlier became Dad's dog. (In the picture, Dad takes Buster for a speed walk using his scooter. I think he was impressed when he saw an older guy walking a dog that way on The Dog Whisperer and decided he could do it, too!) Dad went to Georgia to visit my brother's family over Christmas, and Buster would go to Dad's closet and sniff his clothes and then look at me as if to say, "Where is he? Is he coming back?"

Anyway, Bama usually sticks close to me and Buster sticks close to Dad, even sleeping on his bed with him at night. BigDog goes back and forth between the two of us.

Both dogs have been gentle and sweet with Bama. The picture is of BigDog sniffing Bama a few days after the accident. "What happened to you?" he seems to be asking.

Yesterday afternoon, Dad poochsat Bama while I went to finish up some things at my old job. I placed Bama in the soft crate on the floor beside the chair Dad sits in when he watches TV. When I got home, Dad said, "Did you see Buster?"

"Yes," I said. "He and BigDog greeted me at the door."

Dad shook his head. "I've been looking for him all afternoon. I thought he got out somehow when I took Bama outside for a bit. I even shook the jar with chicken jerky treats. [The dogs LOVE those!] BigDog came running for a treat, but Buster never showed up."

We finally figured out he had been hiding under a day bed in my bedroom all afternoon, apparently in protest of Dad giving all that attention to Bama. Oh, well. I guess we'll get all the dynamics straightened out when Bama is well.

Bama had surgery today. They were adding some sutures to tighten the wounds more. I didn't get to talk to the vet today when I picked her up, but the tech said she's continuing to improve. I know they are necessary, but surgery days are tough. Bama takes quite a while to shake off the grogginess from the anesthesia.