Bud doing some of his best work image

Bud doing some of his best work

We live in an era where little of Norman Rockwell’s America survives. Even in much of rural America the Mayberry R.F.D. quality of life has disappeared. In fact most of America probably doesn’t remember R.F.D. stood for Rural Free Delivery. Yes, there was a time, and it has come again, when not every small town had a Post Office. If you think that is a myth think again.

Bud may live on a farm, but he is far from a “farm dog.” The other dogs we’ve had (almost all mutts) had no desire to be indoors unless it was unbelievably hot or bitter cold. Even on nice days Bud doesn’t want to be outside alone, unless there are tractors in the field for him to watch. Sadly, his early puppy month owners were city folk, so he didn’t grow up getting accustomed to the wonders of the great outdoors.

Oh, from time to time he will lose himself in hot pursuit of a squirrel or bunny rabbit, but, for the most part, he likes to find a nice comfy place. Sometimes it is the baseboard register in the kitchen, other times it is his nice comfy bed in the house. Most times though, as soon as someone boots him out of the house in the morning to answer nature’s call he makes at most three quick stops racing across the yard to scratch and whimper at my office door. Once inside he immediately drains the little water dish, left over from an office cat which showed up one day and stayed until a neighbor opted to take them home. Why drain it instantly? So it gets refilled with cold water from the fridge. I am almost trained.

After spending an obligatory few minutes sitting by my desk he retires to his pillows and blanket. Sometimes he carts them around if he wants sun or if the ceiling fans are blowing too much air down on him, but, normally, he is content to leave them in that out of the way corner by the BOINC machines. He can be entertaining. Especially during the summer when the ceiling fans are on and he decides the carpet under that table I use for projects isn’t providing enough padding. He’ll drag the various pieces of his “office bed” under the table and arrange them just so before plopping down and once again providing the background music of snoring.