As I was just starting kindergarten, we added an addition to our family; my mom remarried. Nervous at first to meet my new step dad, my fears were clamed when he brought me a makeup set and actually did my makeup for me! My step dad, Loy, brought with him his dog, that was eight years old, and I fell in love with the dog.

Buster, my new dog, old and fat still could get around easily. Buster, a Welsh Corgi, had short, cute legs. In the summer he would shed so much fur. It would make my mom so mad because she would have to vacuum the house twice a day. I grew up with Buster, and I would tell him everything. He would follow me around the house everywhere I went. Buster always knew when I was having a bad day. He would lie on top of my feet and look up at me with his big chocolate eyes. When I would tell him a story about my day, he would move his ears back and forth, so it was like he knew what I was saying. He was a very loyal dog and always protected me. If we had friends over to swim in the backyard, he would be on guard and make sure the boys wouldn’t dunk me or push me in. Buster was a very well behaved dog. He didn’t need much attention, and it didn’t take much effort to take care of him.

As the years went on, Buster and I grew older together, and he became weaker and weaker. He was always an overweight dog because if we would put him on a diet he would get mean and try and steal the food we were eating, so we decided to let him have fun and enjoy his life. Buster loved hot dogs, and when we would cook them, he could smell them from a mile away. He’d jump up on the chair and would eat every single one. When he was seventeen years old, he developed a tumor. The veterinarian said it was just a fatty tumor, and it was harmless; however, it was a rare tumor. They put Buster on different medications, which made him weak and tired all the time. It was hard for me to understand why Buster couldn’t get up and run around with the whole family outside like he used to.

One day when I came back home from my grandma’s, I was looking around and I couldn’t find Buster anywhere. I asked my mom where he was, and she told me she had to put him down because he was too sick. She said it wasn’t fair for him. I was devastated; I couldn’t believe my mom would not tell me what she was doing, so I could say goodbye to Buster. I lost my best friend, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to forgive my mom. I realized later that my mom did it for the best. If I had known she was putting him down, I would never have let it happen. I knew it would be selfish for me to make Buster suffer living on the way he was. After all this commotion, I thought I could never love a dog the way I loved Buster.

On my seventeenth birthday I came home to an awesome surprise, a dog named Maggi, and everything started to get better. My mom likes Maggi because she isn’t a high maintenance dog, and she doesn’t shed. I don’t treat Maggi the way I treated Buster. Maggi is a perfect match for me because she let’s me dress her up and do her hair, she’s like my little baby--although I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Buster, my best friend.