Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Dear Buster

(Buster refusing to even look at me)

Dear Buster,

I want you to know how much I love you.  You have been my buddy and constant companion for the past 12 years.  You are loyal and true and you love me with your whole heart.  No one is ever as excited to see me as you are.  You have an incredibly sweet soul.  You're the best dog I've ever had.  Sure, you have some weird tendencies, but hey, so do I.  I think that's why we get along so well.  

I know that I'm your best friend in the whole, wide world, which is probably why you were so shocked and saddened when I betrayed you the way I did.  Not only did I leave you at home while I spent 10 days in Chicago, but I somehow managed to get you involved in one of my ridiculous bets with my favorite obnoxious Packer friend, Karen.  What can I say?  I really thought the Bears were going to win that game. I was so confident in their ability to win that game that I gambled away your self respect and dignity.  I am so sorry.

I am sorry that while I was away, my obnoxious Packer friend Karen came over to the house, removed your beloved Illini collar, and snapped that ugly green and gold thing around your sweet neck less than 24 hours after her Packers beat my Bears.  I know you must have been traumatized, and I can't imagine your pain. I felt incredibly helpless when Karen started flooding Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram with pictures of you wearing that hideous collar.  The worst part of the whole thing is that I wasn't even there to help you through the trauma.

(Buster clinging to the Illini blanket)

I promised the San Fransico 49ers that I would be their #1 fan if they helped me free you from that collar. Needless-to-say, I am bleeding scarlet and gold these days.  The good news is that you only had to wear it for one week.  It could have been worse--if the Packers had won the Super Bowl, you would have had to wear it until next fall (God forbid!).

If it's any consolation, I have learned my lesson.  I will never, ever involve you in one of my bets again.  The guilt was horrible.  I hope that you will one day be able to forgive me.  Until then, I'll keep slipping you peanut butter, which seems to help you forget how mad you are at me.

I love you, Buster!



1 comment:

  1. oh my god. I loved every word of this blog.