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OUR DOG, RUSTY How can you tell enough about an animal that was the pet of a lifetime. Such was Rusty, the wonderful dog we had for 11 years. He captured our hearts from the beginning. His fur was like that of the Irish Setter, richly red-golden in color, with highlights of white, hence, the name, Rusty. He grew to be the most beautiful dog we could have wished for, large in stature, and was the best guard dog around. He was, also, the most expressive dog I have ever known. He actually had eyebrows that rose as one talked, or furrowed to show that he did not like what was going on, generally, in a protective sense. He not only captured our hearts, but the hearts of our neighbors, as well. Born the runt of the litter, Rusty was a small ball of downy fluff that could easily fit inside a child's shoebox. I marveled at his size when as a puppy he ran up to a plug-in, looked up, barked at it, backed up with a wiggle and lunged forward as if to challenge it. He seemed sure that the two holes in the wall must have been eyes and would surely become friend or foe. His mother was a small Irish Setter and his father was a small Australian Shepard, however, we soon learned that none of this made a difference for at full growth, from the ground to the top of his head, he stood nearly three feet. As he grew taller, his coat grew longer and thicker. The fur on his head was soft, sleek, and fine, and became fringed on the ears. His neck, back, and side coat graduated in length, but became fine, silky, and fringed nearer the underside. The fur on his forelegs was sleek, silky and hugged his leg but became longer and fringed toward the back of his legs. The length of his coat ranged from one-half inch to three inches. The most majestic part of him was his tail. It was a beautiful flag of fur, and when he wagged it, the fur would sway from side to side, much like a flag flapping in the breeze. As he continued to grow, we knew his desire was to stay outdoors, and no matter how hard we tried, he would not allow us to brush his coat. He was prone to matting of the fringed fur on his underside due to his living outdoors, so each year we took him to be groomed. How he pranced afterward, bandanna on his neck, even more brilliance to the red-golden hues of his coat and having a clean, very light carnation-like scent from the shampoo and conditioner used. It would not be long, however, until the dusty odors of the out-of-doors would take over the scent of his coat once again. It was fitting, though, since the outdoors was his domain where he romped and rolled in the dirt and grass with joy. Though friendly, his ability to guard was wonderful for both our family and the neighbors. You knew when Rusty barked that something or someone was near that should not be. There were three ways of knowing, just by listening to him, what was occurring. One such way was a loud continuing bark preceded by a growl when strangers were approaching. He did this continually until the person either left, or someone went to see what was occurring, and only continually when the person was close enough that his bark was to be a caution signal to our family or neighbors. Another warning sound occurred regarding the neighbor's cat, Clyde. Clyde grew up with Rusty and they became, somehow, attached to each other. When Clyde would leave the yard and get caught in a catfight, Rusty would let out a lengthy, shrill howl followed by a series of high-pitched barks. He continued this until either the neighbors retrieved Clyde or until Rusty saw that Clyde had come home unharmed. Many times, Rusty was rewarded for saving Clyde from the clenches of a larger cat. Finally, another series of barks occurred when an animal such as a possum found it's way into a yard. He would emit several high-pitch, rapidly repeated barks until we, or a neighbor, would go to see what he had spotted. A series of three distinct barking patterns, never once faltering. His large stature and protective nature made him a wonderful guard dog. Sweet Rusty, a more wonderful pet we could not have wished for. Having suffered from arthritis for a number of years, on Thanksgiving Day, 1999, he could not raise his lower backside to stand. Knowing we had to do the humane thing, and having tried all we could, the vet was called. Before he was put down, Rusty looked up at me and his lower lip began to quiver as if to communicate his goodbye and that it was his time to go. Moved by such expression, the vet immediately gave him the shot that allowed him to go to heaven's gate. He was buried in our backyard so he did not leave his home. A rod of a hummingbird stands at the head of his grave, symbolic of his final freedom from the pain of aging, to running like the wind, once again.
Our Dog, Rusty © Karen Sarnecki, 2000
PATRIOT
KIDS
POETRY
INSPIRATION
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