Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Buster Bwisit; Buster Baby

Only his mother seemed to think that he was special. Everyone else the puppy had annoyed or driven mad to shrills that can triumph over the sound of Manila City. That is why he was named Buster.

Born in the province, he was a little shy of three months when he moved in the city with his mom, siblings, and human granny.

If I had been given the chance to pick who it is I would have adopted, I would have adopted the black faced pup who had been named Bane. He had been friendlier to humans, always wagging his tail whenever I would pass by their cot. It was as if he wanted me to pick him up and tub his belly. But, I knew that my sister wanted me to keep Buster, because he was (at that time) his mom’s fave. So, instead of playing with Bane, I picked up Buster and gave him a belly rub. Something that he would like for a few seconds, and then run off somewhere else.

Honestly, that made me think I’m not made for mothering.

As the litter of five slowly dwindled to two (his 3 sibs had gotten new homes, even Bane), it was more that Buster and his sister Cuddy became more of a handful. But it would always be Buster who would start something.

He would be the one to get a slipper or two and chew on it, making his sister think that it was alright to do so. They had ruined a lot of slippers and sandals. Don’t ask me how many, because I don’t want to remember.

Plus, it’s not as if we didn’t give him his share of dentastix.

As if footwear and treats weren’t enough, he would also gnaw on the different furnitures, leaving pieces of wood scattered all around the first floor. Apart from that, he’d also nibble the on whatever it is at the trashcan. His favorite? The tissue from the bathroom’s bin.

Mind you, it’s not only the dirty ones, he would grind his teeth on the clean ones! They had a separate paper towel which we used for cleaning poop or pee, and it was placed on a table. Somehow, he managed to snatch that and crunched on the entire roll. The entire living room floor was filled with bits of white paper. I would never forget the way his mother had barked angrily, as if she was scolding them (yes, his sister was with him).

Now even his mom doesn’t pay him enough attention. She seldomly plays with him and she isn’t as sweet as before. (For me, this is just right for a growing boy whose mom will soon leave but hopefully still visit from time to time).

Yet, it is he who has showed that we are meant to be. It’s not only his good ways, such as not going up the stairs (he’s the only one because, he’s afraid of the steep steps), going outside to pee, and being the first one to come inside the house after a moment of street play.

He has showed that he is smart, from knowing his names and being still as I treat a wound. His sweetness somehow complements me. If I’m the only human at home, he always wants to make sure that he has eyes on me, even following me to the bathroom whenever I would pee or take a bath. It made me feel that he wanted me safe.

I called it ostrich, whenever he would hide his head somewhere under the bed, under the table or at the back of the full length mirror. In fact he has his hiding spots, not just when we’re mad at him but also because he wants to be alone for a time.

Touch isn’t his main love language, which is something similar to mine. In fact, he doesn’t even liked to be carried just for the sake of being carried (unlike his sister and mom). Somehow, it’s something I need as I had broken a mug or glass when I had a focal.

Even all the trouble (from licking strangers to breaking stuff), I consider myself lucky to have had Buster as my adopted pup.

I adopted a puppy just because, but now Buster is showing me day by day (even with all his antics) that he is what I need. More than a companion, a pup I can call my own. Someone who will be there when I need him to be but also have his alone time whenever he feels that I’m busy with things. I may not have listed all the reasons why, but to me he is special. The same way his mother thought so.