Buster

This is how Buster - aka Rusk Creek’s Who You Gonna Call - a 5–year-old beautiful boy came to live with me.

The first Vizsla I ever met was Bandor. He was a gift to my brother Chris, some 40+ years ago, as Chris recovered from encephalitis.

Most people didn’t know what Vizslas were back then. And since my parents had raised and bred Dachshunds during my early childhood, Bandor was something new and intriguing. He was energetic, rambunctious, funny, clingy and darling – all traits that we learned were common in Vizslas.

As an adult, my first Vizsla was from a breeder, and the next four would be rescues. I have embraced rescuing for many reasons, known to those of us who choose that route. At one point, there were three rescues living under my roof, and as they passed on due to illnesses, I was left with none.

I digress.

Stephanie (Fischer) has been my phone-a-friend for more than 10 years. We have discussed many doggie things, and I had expressed how much I missed my last V. It’s not that I missed A DOG. I missed him. Sometime after those conversations, Stephanie called to say that there was a Vizsla available for adoption, and would I be interested?

That is how I met Jeanne, Buster’s owner, who lived on a lovely farm with her husband, other Vizslas and a corral of Tennessee Walkers. I soon realized that Buster was Jeanne’s special companion and heartthrob.

Jeanne was sick.

She knew that her cancer was fatal, and she wanted to know that Buster was in a loving home, before she left this old world. I liked Jeanne and Buster immediately, and I could see how much Buster was loved. I visited the farm several times, and when Jeanne asked if I would like to adopt Buster, I accepted, without hesitation.

Buster left the farm, with a box full of toys and a comforter, and moved to the suburbs with me. The first night in my home, he found a little teddy bear in my guestroom and put it (unharmed) on my bed, and then dragged his comforter down the hall to his new bedroom. He seemed to understand the nature of things.

Two months later, Jeanne passed away.

Buster is now settled in his new digs. He seems to like chasing rabbits and squirrels, and guarding the back yard. He is one of my favorite “people” in the whole world.

I cannot put into words how much I admired Jeanne, how much I learned from her, and how much I have accepted Buster with gratitude. I thought when I met her that had I been in her shoes, I would have wanted to have my beloved companion with me to the end.

But now I understand. Even though it broke Jeanne’s heart to let Buster go - as her husband Jim told me later - she did it anyway.

And isn’t that the purest sign of grace and of love for another being?

Melissa