“Hey Alan. Sir.. Hold up.” Jason shouted.
Alan Scott turned around to see Jason Stokes running up to him. “What can I help you with?” Alan asked.
“It's more like what I want to give you.” Jason said as he got closer.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. We have a little present for you.” Jason said and turned to whistle. Just then a beautiful dog jumped out of the truck and came running. He was a mix of gray and brown with a big bushy tail. One of his eyes was an ice blue, the other was mostly brown with a wedge of ice blue in it. He was well built with larger than normal front quarters and a strong jaw. His teeth were huge and white which you could see because he had, what could be described as, a big open mouthed smile on his face.
Jason looked at Alan, “This is Buster Brown.”
Alan kneeled down and Buster came right up to him. Alan started petting and scratching him behind the ear. “You’re a big boy.” Alan said.
“I knew it.” Jason said. “He already respects you.”
Alan looked up, “What do you mean?”
“He already sees you as an Alpha.” Jason explained.
“Oh?” Alan said as he continued to pet the dog.
“We would like you to take him.” Jason blurted out.
“Oh! Why? He seems like a great dog.” Alan questioned.
“Oh, he is, but we don’t need another alpha and he refuses to submit to the ones we have.” Jason said.
“I don’t understand.” Alan looked at Jason, “How is that a problem?”
“He is disruptive and being so young he’s not fully trained to hunt and protect the herds.” Jason said.
Alan continued to pet Buster, “So, this big lug is causing problems?”
“Sort of.” Jason admitted. “We don’t want to put him down, we want to use him as a breeder, but we can’t have him at the compound.”
“I see, so you thought of me?” Alan asked.
“Not necessarily, but he’s an alpha and wouldn’t respond well to just anyone. Besides, Mike already had two dogs, so you were the next choice in line.” Jason explained.
“Number two on the list.” Alan said jokingly.
“Sorry sir, didn’t mean it that way.” Jason squirmed.
“Relax, just busting you…” Alan didn’t finish his sentence as Buster responded to busting like it was his name. “Oh, you know your name. Buster.”
Buster’s ears went up as if to hear whatever command Alan was going to give him. When Alan said, “You're a good boy.” Buster just lit up, mouth open, tough hanging out and bright eyed. He was eager to do whatever Alan wanted.
“I need to warn you, he’s smart. He has already figured out how to unlatch the gates and he goes and gets all the training toys out and thrashes them.” Jason explained.
Alan stood. He looked at the dog and then Jason, “I’m going to need to run this by Allison.” and took a step away from Buster. Buster adjusted himself to be next to Alan. Like they were attached at the hip.
Jason laughed, “I think he’s already made up his mind.” he then handed Alan a lead for the dog.
Alan took it.
“We can send over a trainer to show you all of our commands and tricks.” Jason said.
Alan looked at him, “You said you weren’t going to use him as a pack leader, right?”
“That’s true.” Jason admitted.
“Then don’t bother. He’s not the first dog I’ve trained and he needs to be more domesticated than a brute.” Alan said.
“He doesn't have to be an inside dog.” Jason admitted.
“Oh, if this big lug is going to be with me, he’s going to be a part of the family. But I’ll give him a way to get out if he needs to.” Alan said as he petted the top of Buster's head.
“We’ll send Blake by to show you how to prepare his food, you have chickens right?”
“Yes, a few.” Alan admitted.
“Good, he likes eggs.” Jason said.
“So do I, how many eggs does he need?” Alan asked.
“About half a dozen a day.” Jason said.
“Well, I guess I’d better get more chickens.” Alan said.
“We’ll bring some food for you. Like I said, we need him as a breeder.” Jason said.
Alan looked down at Buster, “So you're just in it for the fun.”
Buster just looked at him with that silly smile.
The next few weeks Alan worked with buster on all the major commands. Sit, Stand, Stay, Play dead and much more. On walks, Buster would stay by his side unless he saw something he wanted to explore. He would then bump Alan on the leg and look up for permission to go. Alan would give it and off Buster would go. Once his curiosity was satisfied he would return to Alan's side. Alan also noticed that Buster didn’t bark much, but one afternoon while Alan was working on a busted radio he heard a low woof, then a bark. He looked up and Buster was out in the front yard looking intently at the gate. Alan looked to the gate that was about five hundred feet from the house. There was Mike. He didn’t enter as he spotted Buster looking at him in a menacing manner.
Alan got up quickly and went to the front porch, “Buster, Friend.”
Buster looked at Alan then relaxed, the hair on his back flattened out and he took a normal stance. When Mike entered, Buster ran up to him like a puppy wanting to be petted. Mike approached, “Did you teach him that?”
“No.” He’s just so damn smart.
“Cool.” Mike said. Then came in for a cup of pine tea. They talked business for a while then Mike went to leave. Buster got up and hit the front door first. He went left out of the door and ran the perimeter of the front yard then came back to Alan and Mike.
Mike looked on in aw. “He just did a perimeter check.”
“I know. No, I didn’t teach him that either. Neither did Jason’s team. He just started doing it.” Alan was amazed. “He’s such a good animal.”
“I’ve had mine for two years and I have to force them to go out ahead of me.” Mike marveled at how proficient Buster was. “You need to bring him over to teach my dogs.”
“I’m not sure how he’ll be around other dogs. They said he was having trouble with the packs that they had.” Alan said.
“I’ll bring over Max and we will see what happens. Maybe we should meet down the road on neutral territory.” Mike suggested.
“Sounds good.” Alan didn’t really want to find out if Buster was overly aggressive with other animals because he wanted to keep him, but with all the visitors he got and all the other animals around, an overly aggressive dog was not a good idea.
The next day buster went out early. When Alan finally got up and put the kettle on, it was just, first light. Still in his robe he put on his mud shoes and went out to the coop. Buster didn’t come around. The next thing Alan heard was coyotes, lots of them. Then their tone changed. They were running. Away. Then they were no more.
All morning Alan looked for Buster. Nothing. Buster didn’t come home that night either. Alan was beginning to think the coyotes had killed his Buster. The next morning, still no Buster.
About noon Alan headed down to the Commons for a meeting with Farming group that was to their East. Bennie, a big man, had a farm that was all the way to the edge of their territory and he came up to Alan, “Hey, I hear you got a dog.”
Alan shook his head yes, but didn’t say anything about the dog being gone. He was still morning the loss.
“He’s a big guy, Husky mixed with Shepard, right?” Bennie asked.
“Yeah.” Alan said, curious as to why Bennie knew that.
Then Bennie said, “I saw the darndest sight yesterday morning. A whole pack of coyotes were hauling ass through my plowed fields and a brown-gray dog with a big tail was chasing them.”
“If you see the dog again, please let me know.” Alan said, all the while wondering if that was his Buster.
The next day, Buster was sitting on the front porch. Not a scratch on him. But looking very pleased with himself. He wolfed down breakfast and sleeped all day. But the next day he was back to normal.
At the next monthly coordination meeting Jason had reported that the coyotes activity to the East had mysteriously stopped. The pack, was a nuisance every year about this time of year, hadn’t been seen or heard in weeks. Alan dismissed the idea that Buster single handedly took out a whole pack of coyotes after running what had to be seven miles. That’s just ludacris, but he was missing and Bennie swares that it was his dogs that he saw chasing those coyotes.
Early fall Alan and Buster were out on the back porch watching the moon come up over the trees. A single coyote cried out. A few minutes later, another. Buster just sat there, ears up. Alan said, “Easy boy, they aren’t anywhere near here.”
About nine in the evening, Buster was pacing by the back door, Alan let him out. Buster took off like a shot. No bark, not explanation, just gone. Alan called for him, but he didn’t return. Alan stayed up to midnight, no Buster. Finally he went to sleep. His Buster came back before, and at this point, that was all he could hope for.
The next morning, no Buster. Alan put out a few calls to have the security teams keep an eye out. At noon Mike came over and gave Alan a report of coyotes spotted running South past the old highway known as 702. That was four miles from Alan’s house.
The next day a farmer to the South reported that he found two dead coyotes by his barn. They had been ripped up but not eaten.
On day three, Buster was on the front porch waiting to be let in. Hungry and tired. He had blood on his fur but had no wounds. There was no doubt who was chasing and killing the coyotes now. Over the next few years we had little to no coyotes sightings in our colony. Buster lived with us and was happy. He loved to play fetch, but sometimes it was with his frisbee and sometimes his bouncy toy. The funny part was, when he was done playing he would go hide the toy. Then the next day when he wanted to play I would tell him to get one of his toys and usually called it out by name, like Frisbee or bouncy or Kong. He would take off and come back with the toy I called out and when he was done, go hide it again. I never did find out where he hid them, but I didn’t need to know that.
Buster lived twelve years and kept us safe and in stitches from all his antics, he died on a Wednesday morning, in his sleep. I took him out wrapped in his favorite blanket and hand dug the hole, crying the entire time. By the time I put him in, I had no tears left. A huge piece of my heart got buried that day and he set the bar in which all dogs would be rated by and usually fall short of. Even amongst his offspring, none could compare. He was truly one in a million.
To this day, I think back to my Buster Brown and mourn his loss. He was my companion through so much, my protector, my ever loyal friend. He was so much like me, an outsider. In his case, he didn't play well with other alpha, which is why he was not utilized for his intended purpose, but he found a place with me and my family. And I was so blessed to have him in my life, even though it seemed so short a time. Goodbye my Friend. You will always have a place in my heart.
This chapter is dedicated to Buster Brown, my most loyal of fiends and the Greatest Dog Ever.
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