My old owners used to abuse me, and I was found walking the train tracks by my master. I now live with my master, his wife, and son. I love my master, but there is one girl I love almost as much.

…


I am dozing quietly in my soft fuzzy blue plaid bed, when the doorbell rings, and I flex my thin muscles under my soft brown and white fur as I jump up and begin to bark shrilly. I don’t stop for five straight minutes. I cannot begin to explain my joy when I see my favorite girl at the door. My master nudges me out of the way with his leg covered in faded light blue jeans, and I am momentarily pushed into the background. I wag my tail happily and begin licking my butt voraciously. After that I keep barking to keep myself noticed, and make sure my girl comes to me. She walks in on the golden brown wooden floor and bends down, screeching, “Buster baby!” I jump up happily, and my tongue lolls out sparkling with drops of my spit, which I rub gleefully onto her arm as I lick her. I hop up on my hind legs and claw her legs with my front paws. I growl in a playful, happy manner as I beg her for attention.

We dash up the steps, and she sits down on the kitchen floor to play with me. She taps my sides playfully, and sticks her face down near mine, so that I can lick her nose with my long pink tongue. She nuzzles my head with her face, and I feel her skin on the soft fur on the top of my head. I'm so gleeful that I hop up onto her lap and pee a little bit because I am so excited.

“Buster!” she shrieks my name in a scolding voice, but I can tell she isn't really mad. She loves me. Otherwise why would she always be petting and scratching me?

She goes downstairs with my master's son, and I follow happily. They both sit down on the couch, and she pats her lap until I jump up onto it. I wag my tail happily, and relax as she pets me. Then I see a squirrel out the window and I think, “SQUIRREL!” I hop up happily to chase it. I run to it, and… BAM. I hit the glass window of the door that I didn’t notice was there because of my hurry to get to the squirrel.

“Buster, you’re so silly,” my girl coos as I lick my sore glass impacted nose. “Ruff,” I say.

…


Later when master lets me upstairs, I stare around at the yellow walls of the kitchen and the huge shiny white wall of the front of the refrigerator. I ponder what to do, as I trot over to the fridge, smell my scent there, lift my leg, and pee. I sigh happily, and walk away panting.

…


A few minutes later, my master comes in and yells, “Damnit Buster, you pissed on the damn fridge again?!?” He grumbles as he cleans up the mess. He looks at me, very annoyed. I just stare at him and pant.

My favorite girl rushes up the stairs to come see me. She scolds me, “Buster, you bad dog! You pissed on the fridge again?” But I can tell she isn't really mad.

My master says, “I love that damn dog, but he's about to go if he pisses on the fridge one more time!”

“I can’t believe he did it again,” girl says in a displeased tone of voice.

However, then she takes me downstairs, and scolds me, but continues to pet me. When she nuzzles the top of my head, I know I am finally safe.