When Bud came to us a few years ago, he was traumatized, sick, and in shock from the abuse he had experienced. He has healed slowly and gradually, and even on the worst days, Bud is eager to go outside and look for some roden or mole to stalk and kill and, when possible, eat.

When he locks into something, he is relentless and undistractable.

He’s a working dog, as all terriers are.

Fate has her sheep, and Zinnia has her therapy work, but until today, we’ve never had a real working mission for Bud.

As you may know, a savvy rat has been assaulting our kitchen, opening cabinets and tearing open boxes. She avoids every trap we set.

Getting desperate, Maria had the idea of letting Bud out of his crate and night and giving him a free run of the house. Boston terriers were bred as rat hunters in the 1800s; Bud seemed to know he was finally getting to work. It was a great idea.

Bud patrols the house in the dark, and every morning, sometimes at 2 p.m., at 4 a.m., and at 5 a.m., we hear some barking downstairs. When the rat appears or approaches the kitchen, Bud waits to run her off. And she runs.

We haven’t seen or heard her or any sign of her since we unleashed Bud. When I come down in the morning, he is positioned by the kitchen door, staring, sniffing, and waiting. We believe his barks and warnings have kept the rat away. Maybe she will go elsewhere, or maybe Bud will set a trap and kill her.

He’s our hero of the moment, along with Zip in the barn. Zip has cleared the barn of rats and pigeons. Bud is having a good time; having this work and purpose has been good for him. So far, so good.