Rufus had his way of speaking to me from the Free Puppy advertisement in the paper. My plans were, if I wanted the puppy, I would then go to the store and pick up all the necessary things and then return for the puppy. Rufus told me otherwise. I fell in love with this fat, caramel popcorn ball. He apparently took to me as well. He followed me to my car. I took him back up to where he was out of the way, but he followed me again as if to say, if you love me you are taking me now. So I did.
Rufus now has a cinnamon,caramel- colored coat. The three- inch, coarse, wavy strip that runs down the middle of his back looks as if he is toting a Mohawk. His mother had to have been kissed by the man in the moon before she gave birth, because his neck and shoulders are outlined with tan and white half moon markings. The white “Bentley” markings found on the tip of his tail, chest and a thin half inch strip that runs down his nose, are distinctive traits of his Australian cattle dog ancestors.
On this particular day, as I am washing dishes I can hear the jingle, jingle of the tag on his collar while he tosses his toy around. Then there is silence. Thinking he is chewing on something he isn’t supposed to, I peek in the living room only to find, him watching every move I make, with the slight cock of his curious head,. The diamond- shaped marking in the middle of his forehead has taken on wrinkles as if he is really trying to comprehend what is going on in the kitchen. With a low, gruff bark he let me know, I was caught staring. “What?” I said, as if he was really going to answer. To my surprise, he leaped up and gave me another bark.
I dry my soapy hands and walk into the living room. By this time he is sitting there with a Come play with me look. I walk over and lying in front of the fireplace is this dingy, gross, slimy to the touch, white and green rope that has two hard pretzel-shaped knots. (That hurt like hell when he tosses them into my shins) He sits in this ready, set, go, crouching as if he is stalking some massive prey, position. His eyes are glued to the toy, like a young boys eyes on the ball, he is about to send out of the ball park. His eyes never stray from the toy as I release it through the air. As if he were sliding into home plate on a sheet of ice, he crashes into the kitchen wall as he retrieves his prey.
Rufus brings the toy back and as I reach out to grab it, like lightening he takes off, as if to say Na, Na you can’t catch me. I chase after him, his head swinging and shaking the toy vigorously. I get too close and BAM he whacks me with the thing right in the shin. I sit down clenching my shin and with laughing eyes and a wagging tail he drops the toy, at my feet.
After letting him outside, to do his bathroom business, I stood at the kitchen window for what seemed to be hours watching him devour Taylor’s small three- wheeled riding toy. He chewed on each side of the pale pink seat until he removed it. The trike has to weigh about ten pounds. Rufus weighs about twenty. He continued to lead the trike around the yard as if it were on a leash. In the far corner of the yard sits two,“A” framed metal arms holding the old lonely swing off the ground. Rufus has somehow got his trike stuck between one arm of this swing. Thinking he would give up and leave his play toy in its prison, I looked on. I wasn’t expecting to see what came next. He sat back and looked at his predicament, as if he was actually trying to come up with a solution to his problem. Within minutes, he was up working the toy back and forth until finally his toy was released.
Once again, with a loud bark, I was being told, I was staring. At full speed, he barrels around to the door jumping up and down saying, “Let me in so I can tell you what I did!” Letting him in, I reach down and give him a rub and pat to let him know, I am just as proud as he is, of his recent accomplishment. His wet, slobbery, lick tells me he doesn’t really care what I think, he just wants some attention. Back into the living room he goes. This time, he has run into another problem, while tossing the rope all over the hardwood floors, he threw his pride and joy under the foot stool. The foot stool is a light muddy brown color with suede material (which he loves to lick for some reason) with rollers. I was in shock when he placed his speckled front paws on the top of the stool and moved it out of his way until the object of his affection was in his view.
Rufus doesn’t bark all the time when he wants something. When I am caught up in my school work, he will grab the most annoying squeaky toy he has, and chew it so loud I can hear it over my Ipod. I then have to stop and converse with him. When his pleas are ignored he finds ways to get back at me.
After hearing several Bangs and Crashes coming from my bedroom, I peered around the corner, only to find, a tornado had stripped the bed clothes clean off my bed. I reached down to pick up the pile of blankets and stuck my hands in a puddle of puppy potty. Needless to say, he quickly went to his own bed.
Rufus fulfills that loneliness I feel when my boyfriend is away. I had been around different types of animals all my life, and until I got Rufus, I never really paid attention to all the different ways they try to communicate.
Rufus, now six months old, has become a permanent fixture in my life. He’s my comedian, my workout partner, but most of all, my best friend. If I could speak his language for one day, the one thing I would say to him would be, “Thanks for opening my eyes and ears to your mind and language.”
Rufus was 1yr old when I had to give him up. I moved and I couldn't take him with me so this is Dedicated to him.
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