My second foster was a little different than my first. Meet Buster. Well, actually, when he came to me, his name was Tennessee, which was kind of a mouthful, albeit cool, so I just called him Buster while he was with me.
Something I've learned about adopters is that they tend to want to change the adopted dog's name once they get them, almost invariably. So I just find a name that fits them (to me) in the mean time to get them used to being called a name they don't respond to :)
Buster definitely fit his name in that he was a bit of a handful. Buster was (I talk as if he's dead or something) as sweet as pie, but had a knack for getting into trouble. Not to mention that despite being 30 lbs, he had paws the size of a labrador's and was, thus, quite clumsy. Despite that, however, Buster's forte was climbing fences, one time escaping from a dog run and hi-tailing it into a nearby lake. But he was definitely fun to foster when he wasn't getting into actual trouble.
Btw, I hear his name has now been changed to Simon.
Even though the trail was cool, it was still pretty freaking hot out (no pun intended). You can see how ridiculous it was by Toby's face. He's like, "Wth, I'm standing here in 100 degree heat and you're taking PICTURES?!" Toby sounds a lot like my husband Sam, sometimes.