Shmaautism
He showed our family love and loyalty. Our dog was named Rusty, and he was a red Doberman but felt more like a brother. He was our family pet among many others. He was the top dog in the house and everyone knew it. My mom brought Rusty home and surprised my dad with the rambunctious pup. My dad’s face lit up when he saw the bright eyed dobie. He was massive for a puppy, too big for his own good. He was the clumsiest, little thing and he always tripped over those floppy paws. Eventually he grew out of that stage and he was quick and agile. Most of the time, he was like a child who constantly had to be watched and kept from chewing on things, in fear that he would choke. My dad loved that dog to an almost unexplainable degree.
Rusty, a well trained dog, always remained close by. He never wandered too far, he became uneasy if he could not see that we were safe. When walking side by side, his fur would often swipe the side of my jeans, bringing a feeling of safety. When a stranger came near he would bark until we assured him they were okay. Rusty knew when things weren’t right, he would look me in the eye and lick me in the face. His kisses were like band-aids; instantly making me better, mostly because I knew he cared. He would sit forever resting his head in my lap. I know that was his favorite resting place because he liked the top of his head to be gently stroked. This put him to sleep every time. He had the kindest soul. When he saw a kitten crying for its mother, he would rush over in great concern and nudge the baby animal with his giant, red nose. He would lick the kitten’s furry head in an attempt to comfort. We always found him sleeping with the bundle of fluffy babies in the corner of our house. He loved those kittens; he didn’t care what they were.
He traveled with us everywhere we never left him home. There was his blanket in the back of our truck where he would lie peacefully and wait or think. We, of course, always returned with snacks to feed him....
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