My readers are very kind to all of our dogs, but I see over time that Bud holds a special place in many hearts. People can’t get enough photos of him.

I took this one with the Leica as he sat comfortably in Maria’s lap while we watched a movie.

Part of it is his story; of course, he is one of those rags to riches dogs, cruelly treated and abused but lucky enough to land a better life.

Something is appealing about the little dog who gets lucky and finds a good home. Many don’t have such luck.

Bud has hit the jackpot here. Right now, he is in my office with his pal Zinnia; both are chewing on new marrow bones I got from the supermarket.

Bud mostly sits by the wood stoves in the cold weather and soaks up the warmth. At night, he is always in Maria’s lap or dozing on one of my sweaters. He loves to sleep on my sweaters when I leave one a chair.

And then, there is his wicker throne, strategically placed near the wood stove in the living room.

Bud has figured out how to open the back door; when he’s cold or uncomfortable outside, he noses open the door and comes in.

Beyond all that, something about Bud seems to touch people’s hearts. He is a scrapper, and like all Boston Terriers, he knows how to find a warm lap and cuddle. He never gives up on his efforts to push the sheep around (they ignore him) or his pursuit of chipmunks and Amish horses.

Bud has a huge heart. If any dog has a right to be wary and protective, he does. But he is a creature of boundless love and affection.

He loves to play with Zinnia and torture her by stealing her bones. She is happy to let him.

Three dogs are my magic number; any more is a pack. They are all sweet and easy. Bud has added greatly to our lives on the farm.