The first day

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. I wasn't going to take on another dog. Cubby and Obsydian had died the previous year - Cubby on January 16, 2010, and Syd on August 23, 2010. Their deaths were devestating. I had had Syd since he was three and a half months old, and Cubby since he was two. Syd was a birthday present in 1996, and the same friends gave me Cubby when they split, in 1999.

Syd had been my constant companion and the one living creature that really knew me best. Of course, when he was three, I rescued Skallywag (nee Rascal) when she was six months old. Syd wasn't too happy, as he was king of the castle, so to speak. So when this 50 pound terrier mix came in, his little Schipperke self was amused for a few hours, then it became war. Eventually, they worked it out, even with the move to a new house, which seemed to cure the territory issues.

Then, along came Cubby, who Syd had befriended over the past year and a half, but when he came in Syd decided to pee all over the video collection and stormed outside. Skally and Cubby became fast mates. They were nearly inseparable, and didn't play a lot with Syd - but they would pack up together at times. These were happy times.

Now, in 2011, August, Skally has spent the better part of the year alone. She seemed to enjoy herself, but there are times when I looked and detected some lingering notes of depression and sadness for the loss of canine companionship.

Out of curiosity, I ventured on to Craigslist and saw Rusty, and 8 year old Border Collie, whose owners had to vacate their premiss due to the economy, and they needed to find homes for their two cats and Rusty.

I thought about this for two days. And then I looked again - I thought, 'If he's still there, then it's meant to be.' He was. I called and 30 minutes later I was driving him home.

When I first saw Rusty, in person, I was a bit taken aback. He was a house dog, who was about 30 or so pounds (give or take - mostly give) overweight. He was in dire need of a brushing, and the owners were heavy smokers. His smile, though, won me over, and I took him to the car - only to have to lift him in as his legs weren't strong enough for the jump.

I got him home, and Skally took a look at him. She was rather aloof. He walked behind her outside, and tried sniffing her, only to be rebuffed. Here was this dog who had invaded her holy territory; the territory where she, Syd and Cubby had spent the majority of their lives living, running, fighting, and enjoying themselves.

So, I took a pair of scissors, and a brush, and worked on him for about an hour and a half. I made a dent, but there was oh, so much more to do! The backyard was covered in hair, and yet he didn't look much different. Skally had been watching from the top of the stairs on the deck - just because she could, and also to determine if I was going to chase her down with the brush, as well (she hates it).

My neighbor, Annmarie came over to meet Rusty. It was then we saw more matting and his teeth - His upper molars were encrusted in a cement-coloured plaque, and I began having some doubts. What was in store for me, but more importantly, what were Rusty's chances of growing healthy and hale. He panted with a rasping and wheezing. I took him for a short short walk and it seemed to be incredibly painful for him - then I noticed his nails were incredibly long. I made a note to phone the groomer down the hill for an appointment to bathe, brush and clip his nails.

My back was beginning to scream at me from carrying him up the flight of steps from the yard. It was then I realized I could let him out the front door, he would waddle to the lawn, and do his business, then turn around and walk back in. Oh Sweet Jesus, Thank you!

That night, August 7, 2011, Rusty whined for his home. I felt terribly bad for him, and he lay on the floor next to my bed. His breathing was labored and hard. I wasn't able to sleep much that night, and I was concerned that perhaps he had a bad heart, and wasn't going to live much longer - that was something I wasn't sure Skally nor I could deal with again, in this short of a time.