Buster

     The old farmer sat under a shade tree.  His days of working in the fields had since passed.  His corn and tobacco crops were shared with neighbor farmers.  They would come taking care of the crops on his farm and giving him half.  I guess you could say the old farmer had retired.  Taking it easy under his shade tree was all he ever seemed to do.  The farmer's wife had already passed away.  His children moved away to the city.  One would think he was alone.  But no, he was not alone.  There under the shade tree lay his trusty old red bloodhound.  The dog was not seeing a lick of work either.  When the old man retired, the dog had apparently done so too.  But then again, as a child growing up in the country and occasionally visiting the old man, I never saw either the old man or dog ever do much.  And now not doing much had gotten to be less. 
     Being young as I was, retirement was far from my mind.  Yet, I wondered if getting old was like this for everyone.  I should live as long to find out.  The old man's stories to a young child were entertaining.  He had seen so much in his lifetime.  He told stories, but then always came back to talking about his dog. 
     "Do you see Buster there lying on the ground?"
     "Yes!" I'd reply. 
     "If he could talk, he'd sure have some stories to tell."
     The old dog he called Buster never made a move.  He was asleep or possibly dead.  It was hard to tell. 
     "Don't let his sleeping fool you," said the old man.  "He's off chasing a rabbit."  He paused and continued.  "Did I ever tell you about the time Buster chased a bear?"
     "No, sir, you never told me."  In all the times I had walked home alone and through the fields, I never once saw a bear.  Our area of the state was not known for bears.  But I listened as the old man told of his being chased by a bear and it turned and ran away when Buster chased after it. 
     "Buster saved my life," said the old man. 
     He told so many stories of his dog Buster and the courageous acts he did.  The stories were hard to believe, especially when looking down each time at a motionless dog.  I continued to listen, though.  I think it gave the old man a reason to live telling such wild stories.  He would be lost if something should ever happen to Buster. 
     In time, the old man passed away.  The children came back to settle the old man's estate.  Under the shade tree they found Buster who had passed away shortly after the old man had.  In heaven, I could almost imagine Buster chasing a rabbit as the old man watched from his chair under a shade tree.  Or better yet, he was watching as Buster chased off another bear.