Thanks again for all your replies and thoughts. Mrs Cube and I have been reflecting (like you do) on what he was like. He had obviously been mistreated before she found him. It was a dreadful stormy night and she nipped down to the Co-Op for a bottle of milk. He was crouched next to the road, covered in cowshit. She asked around, but couldn't find anyone that knew anything of him. She took him in on her way back home and when I got in from work about midnight he appeared in the dining room, giving me quite a start!
Notices in the shops and a "found" ad in the local rag, but no-one claimed him. A check up at the vets showed that he was about 18 months to 2 yrs old, had several healed broken ribs and a bit of an attitude towards strange dogs, so much so that we had to wait outside the vets as he would cause bloody mayhem in the waiting room.
He was pathetically devoted to our old terrier cross (another rescue) and used to lie with his head on hers if she deigned to allow him to do so. When the twins were born he spent most of his time as near to them as possible, but it came at a cost, because every soft toy they ever had was chewed, missing ears, eyes or feet! I have video footage of him climbing up on a baby Cubette to steal a fluffy rabbit out of a mobile just above her.
When they were toddlers he let them pull him about without so much as a murmur. I remember once one of their little friends from playgroup shouted with glee, grabbed hold of his ear and towed him round the lounge as his mum frantically tried to make him let go. Buster simply looked up with a "have you finished?" look on his face.
He was virtually untrainable, but it all paid off and after years of shouting and bawling we managed to get him to sit three or four times out of a hundred. His achilles heel, apart from his psychopathic tendencies towards other dogs which meant we could never let him off the lead in public, was thunder and fireworks. He used to clamp himself to my head and shiver so violently it gave me a headache if he heard either.
He was therefore anything but a standard dog. He was a bloody nuisance at times, but had typical terrier charm, with his silky coat and Queen Ann legs.
You tend to have a dog in your life that was special above all others, and Buster wasn't that for me, that was my old Vicki. Mrs Cube is still virtually inconsolable, and the bond between them was very strong indeed. Buster used to sit by the window waiting for her to come home, even if I was already in, but despite all that I had the most heartwrenching time while the vet eased him away yesterday. Funny old things pets!
