My Dog Rusty.

After ruling out a Border Collie and a Border Terrier, it was while watching 'My Dog Skip' that my family decided a Jack Russell Terrier pup was just what we needed to complete our family. I was 8 at the time and was convinced we were going to name him Dodger.

It was a hot summer day when we visited the aparment with 3 very different Jack Russell puppies. Our young family, plus Grandpa Loock, went to see the litter, and it didn't take long for us to pick out the brown and white ball of energy running around the place. He looked like wishbone, complete with white body, brown/black spots, and a brown face with a snip of white running to meet his nose. He was adorable, and I was in love!

I recall the first night he was ours as my brother and I competed to see who the puppy would sleep with. But, like many dog owners before our time, we had every intention of training this dog up right. We put Rusty in his kennel the first night, and BOY did he cry. All he wanted was to be with us, and all I wanted was to be with him. Needless to say, the kennel thing didn't last long, and soon enough, our little Rusty-Roo was taking turns sleeping with us.

After that night, time seemingly flew by, because Rusty grew, and he grew fast.

The day we got Rusty 2001

While we chose a Jack Russell for his compact size, we were definitely amateurs when it came to his energetic personality, and protective nature. He quickly bonded with my Mom, and decided he was her dog. This, of course, meant that he needed to protect her to no end. We were threats, the mail man was a threat, workers of the house were threats.... let's just say that Rusty thought he was much bigger than he actually was, and, to many people, he could be a little overwhelming.

Not to me, though.

Rusty was my puppy. God sent me to this earth with an innate love for animals, ESPECIALLY dogs. I had begged for a dog tirelessly the years following the loss of our first dog, Malone, who had escaped off his rope to never be found. Now, my prayers had been answered. I had my puppy... and was even ok to share him with the family.

Rusty seemed tough and gruff on the outside, but this is what I saw when I looked into those big brown eyes; I saw unconditional love. I saw a smarty who picked up tricks easily, from playing dead, to crawling, to playing the piano. I saw a lounger who could float on the boogie board in the pool for hours on end, and remain perfectly content. I saw a hound dog as he quickly learned the phrase "where are the birds," which was always quickly followed with my terrier looking straight into the sky on point. Rusty even helped capture a pack rat at the cabin! Rocks were no match for Rusty, as he would dig tirelessly at them, which, depending on where we were could result in torn up grass. He definitely had a personality of his own.

The thing I loved most about my Rusty, however, was how much he loved to cuddle. While he spent the night glued to Mom's side, i'd be pleasently surprised to wake up to a little white tail poking out of my covers. He needed to be anywhere there was a blanket.... anywhere there was a person. Looking back, we definitely kept each other warm several winter nights of our lives. I loved that.

Last week, the thing I dreaded coming... well, it came. After 13.5 years of life, we had to put my sweet Rusty-Roo to sleep. My heart broke.

Times got especially hard for Rusty at the end, and while he suffered from physical things such as a bad back, and eyes, we found that the major decline came in his mind. Rusty wasn't Rusty anymore. He wasn't happy. He wasn't living life like he used to; a decline that everyone dog owner hates to see.

The day before he was taken to be put down, I had spoken to the vet, and ultimately we had all come to the same decision. I was in hysterics over the matter, and took the rest of the day off of work. I came home to my Rusty and held him in my arms while I cried and cried into his soft ears. He didn't mind so much, as he loved to lick the salty tears off my face. I decided, then and there, that this was going to be Rusty's day. If he was going to have one last day on earth, we were going to make it perfect.

We did all his favorite things including going on a ride in the car, and taking a very slow and steady walk to the park. I fed him the best dog food I could find, and gave him a bath so he would be clean and white. Tears flowed. Man, did the tears flow! But with each tear that came, so did another memory of the 13 years I got with my pup. I'm comforted to know he lived a long life, and that I got to be such a big part of it. Spencer came home to take him to the vet the next morning, and for a moment we all sat in the living room, saying our goodbyes. We gave him one last pet, one last hug, and one last "you're a good boy," before he was gone. (Holy moly! I thought I was done crying, but typing this up is doing a number on me.)

I will never forget my sweet Rusty. He was there through so much pain, so much happiness, and got a first hand glimpse of my bringing up. I imagine him in heaven, with My Grandma Loock calling him "Russell" as she slips him endless food, and my Grandma Jayne patting him endlessly on the head, as both she and Rusty dozed off. He feels good. He is happy. And, all I can hope is that dogs and people really do go to the same heaven... because I would love nothing more than to cuddle my Rusty once again someday.

To many people, Rusty was mis-understood. To me, to those that knew him, he was a sweet heart, a protective family member, and a truly, truly loyal friend. I love you Rusty. Thank you for the memories.

Mine and Rusty's last day

Just a couple of kids and their dog

 

My Rusty