Somewhat of a bruiser and black as the ink of spades Buster was appropriately named. If you wanted anything doing Buster was your chap. However today he was attempting to be good. Louise had told him this was a town where one behaves. So it came as a shock to see a pair of posh dogs, having a fight. Curling his lip Buster looked up at Louise. ‘No boy, not today, let them be’. Passing the scrapping pair Buster lifted a leg and sprayed them. Their look of horror satisfied him.
As Louise reached a street corner, Buster was ordered to lie down. Soon a gentle melody drifted around the pavement. Buster watched as coins collected in a hat. His supper was looking assured. Until a kid on a bike grabbed the hat.
Buster threw decorum to the wind, and set of in pursuit of his supper, ignoring a command to stay. No one took their supper. Buster heard metal crunching behind him as he launched himself at the cyclist. As the kid fled empty handed, Buster looked back. Louise was pinned under a car. Placing himself to defend her, he failed to realise that he was now an orphan.