Rusty Roo

I still remember the day mom told my brother and I that we were getting a puppy. Dad was sitting in his chair looking angry but defeated and Johnny was so happy that he forgot our sibling hatred and hugged me. We hadn't been able to have a dog before because of his allergies, but mom had found a dog that wouldn't aggravate them. The dog was a miniature poodle, and it had hair instead of fur. I was 9 going on 10 and Johnny was 11 going on 12.

Our previous dog Belle had died when i was so young that i really only had one memory of the border collie. I had recently learned the word "Vacuum" and when i spilled a bag of her food on the stairs, she started cleaning it up. I mistakenly started calling her the Vacuum. This for some reason had my older sister practically falling down laughing. When Belle died, Dad sat us down on those same stairs and said Belle wasn't coming home anymore.I think i was 4 at the time. I know it devastated my sister though. I kept trying to cheer her up by drawing pictures of dogs. Hey...i was little. I didn't understand.

I remember that the breeder lived in the same city as my grandma and that her house smelled funny. The puppies were hilarious barking and climbing all over us. The breeder kept trying to sell mom on a puppy she had temporarily named Houdini. But mom kept giving her dubious looks and looking down at her foot. It wasn't until later i understood why. A blonde colored (actually he's called apricot, but i never understood why) puppy was curled up and calmly watching the other rambunctious puppies from right next to her foot. That was the dog we got.

After a plethora of names ranging from Spazmanian Devil to simply Dog, we settled on Rusty for the rust colored spot on his hind quarters. He wasn't always calm and content to sit in your lap snoozing (until mom came in the room that is). When we got home for the day from school, Rusty would run laps at breakneck speed around our couch and up and down the hall. He didn't even have to be taught fetch, just natrually brought the stick back to us. It was even funnier when you threw it and he lost sight of it, and just looked around until he found any stick and brought that back.

Rusty was even the reason i broke my ankle in 8th grade. Going down that staircase again, Rusty got underfoot, and instead of taking the steps two at a time, i took four. My foot landed, then rolled under with a loud pop as i tried to prevent myself from falling on him as my legs gave way. When we finally untangled and was holding my leg, he got on to the step next to my face and was trying to lick away the tears.

 For fifteen years Rusty has been a part of our lives. He has loved us through everything. Accidentally stepping on him, forgetting to feed him, baths, swimming lessons at the lake, and the introduction of Dubbie (my mom took care of the skittish terrier for the neighbors) and Molly (my sister's dog). He was always content to just sit with you while reading a book, or watching TV. It didn't matter, just to be with you, in the same room was enough. He has been my companion, co-pilot, confidant, hot water bottle, playmate, and an endless source of amusement and love.

He's dying. His larynges are collapsing, making him cough a lot which aggravates his heart murmur which in turn aggravates his already failing kidneys. He's almost blind and pretty much can only hear loud noises. Mom is determined to see if it can be fixed without causing Rusty any more pain or diminishing his quality of life. We should know by Wednesday afternoon if anything can be done but the doctor's prognosis didn't seem optimistic.

Although i'm not really sure he's aware of anything. The doctor put him on doggy dope and he's been really out of it. He's even walking like he's been at sea for a few months. We have to walk him down the steps to the backyard so he can do his business. And when he's sitting in your lap, he kind of stares at a random spot and sways back and forth with his tongue sticking out.

I bought the series of James Herriot. If you don't know about "All Creatures Great and Small" you should look into the novels about a country doctor in England. Heartwarming and consoling he deals with everything from birth to death of amazing animals of the everyday sort and the people whom have bonded with them. I listened to the audio books a lot as a kid and for some reason, i feel myself yearning for those words again.

No one wants him to suffer but no one wants to say goodbye either. I'm trying to steel myself against the inevitable, but anyone who has ever lost a pet, a dog especially, knows there's not much to do except grieve. I'm thankful that i have some time to hold him and pet him before the end.