Where it all began
The Spirit That Guides Us~
Episode 2 Rusty Pt 1
Despite Rusty’s random act of lunacy, ironically it was his judgment that Papa would depend on when determining the intentions of a new visitor to our gate.
Any visitor failing to get Rusty’s approval would not be allowed to enter the yard without a personal escort by me or Papa. Rusty would signal his disapproval of any unwelcome visitor by his unique barking style.
His bark was indistinguishable from the other dogs if he viewed you as a trusted visitor. Most approvals were met with a lazy glance whilst he lay in silence. However, mistrust would be greeted with an unmistakable combination of a whining, howling barking sound. Auntie when home alone, would not allow any visitor to enter the gates upon hearing Rusty’s howl of disapproval.
Bruna, the lone female, was the smallest in size yet the fiercest of the group. Her ferocity could be matched only by Rex on his best day. In balance with her fierceness was her easy acceptance of strangers. Bruna was the very first dog I owned. Papa gave her to me mostly because of her personality.
Although she was my personal dog I was not allowed to treat the others with any less care. Still, I was able to make it known to all who would listen that Bruna was my dog. Bruna was almost always at my side, be it at home or when we traveled. She knew we were a team and unlike me, she did not feel the need to act with any sense of fairness towards the others when spending time with me. She was fiercely protective of me.
On the day Mrs. Delia called on my Papa, Bruna having returned late from her daily stroll, seemed very tired. Her quick withdrawal to her resting spot below the house after briefly nudging me made Bruna’s lack of energy most obvious. Recognizing Mrs. Delia at the gate, she not being a close acquaintance of the family, I did what was expected of me by continuing to play in my imaginary world.
The dogs’ barking was abruptly shortened by Auntie’s command. Despite her command to be silent Rusty remained the lone dog who continued to express his suspicion about our unexpected guest.
“Ok Rusty, that is enough, quiet now!”
Auntie commanded before turning to address Mrs. Delia. Rusty obeyed with his silence.
“Mr. Luther is working in the back, could you return later?”
Mrs. Delia did not appear to be in the mood of delaying her business with Papa.
“No Miss Vie,”
she said firmly with politeness,
“I need to speak to him now, it’s important.”
Auntie signaled me to move towards the gate.
“Ok, open the gate and come inside.”
“What about the dogs?”
inquired Mrs. Delia, her facial expression clearly reflecting her concern.
For as long as I can remember, any stranger asked to come into our yard would do so with great trepidation but none had ever been bitten or bothered by our dogs. Papa had raised our dogs in a way that ensured their respect and disciplined behavior when responding to the command of any member of our family.
Papa had an enormous amount of respect for the intelligence of all dogs. He has often responded to others who have tried to put him at ease with the sentiment, “My dog does not bite!”
To which Papa would reply, “The only dog that does not bite is a dog wearing dentures”.
I was very confident in Auntie’s ability to command the dogs to sit and be quiet.
“Come in and close the gate behind you. They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them.” said my Auntie with the slightest smile.
It was the closest thing to mischief that she could muster.
“Further.”
Auntie pointed to me.
“With Tony there they will not bother you,”
she assured Mrs. Delia.
It was always interesting to watch the face of new visitors as they unlatched the gate in order to enter. Papa would always laugh, prompting Auntie to immediately give a promissory note to God to pray for Papa at a later time.
Auntie did a lot of praying for Papa. With the dogs sitting at a ready watch for every and/or any singular muscular twitch of the visitor, the sudden and unexpected noisy clang of the gate’s latch would always startle the unsuspecting visitor. The dogs would fidget on cue at the sound of the latch’s loud clang as it opened.
The visitor would almost always immediately drop their hands from the latch located at the top of the gate in order to grab the handle in their effort to re-close the gate, attempting to make quick any retreat. Papa when in attendance would then comment,
“Did the latch bite you?” always laughing as he spoke.
Papa having purposefully constructed it with that result in mind.
Usually around this time, Auntie would offer up yet another prayer for my Papa. After each one of Papa’s indiscretions, I would mentally, simultaneously repeat with Auntie her opening words to God,
“Dearest father in heaven….”
End of Chap 2 Part 1
(To be continued)
