My walk with Rufus

I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, always. My dad used to take me to eat a breakfast taco at a restaurant of my choice on early Saturday mornings. One day I chose a place called “Big Taco,” which was the same restaurant my grandma used to work at. We ate our tacos, and on our way out I saw a little white puppy with dark orange spots that was very tiny and lonely.
My heart bursted with flames as I asked my dad to take it home, knowing he’d say “no.” He saw the desire I had for this puppy and said, “Yeah, we can take it. Let’s just hope mom doesn’t get mad.” That was my biggest worry, too, my mom’s opinion on taking home this puppy since we already had another dog.
My brother was as fascinated as I was with this dog when we brought him home. We had different name ideas for him, but my dad proclaimed he’d be named “Rufus.” My brother and I looked at each other and said, “What? Why Dad?” He said, “Oh well, ‘Rufus’ is the name of Rachel Ray’s dog, so that’s going to be the name of our dog, too.” We agreed on the name because we too loved Rachel Ray.
After a few months of having Rufus, we learned he was going to stay a small size, and be very energetic. He would run around our large backyard, tear up our garden and literally jump with us on our trampoline.
Until one day we noticed that he couldn’t anymore. He couldn’t run or jump, and wouldn’t even bark. How could this be? What had happened to him? We decided taking him to the veterinarian was the best option. We were told he had heartworms, and would need surgery very, very soon.
My parents both knew how much Rufus meant to us, and saving him would be essential to our childhood, so we wouldn’t have to experience a heartache as children. He went for surgery, and everything was perfect. We had our dog back, and life couldn’t be any better.
This was all until about 10 months later when we decided to take him for a walk around the street. What could possibly happen? We were finally taking our little puppy around the neighborhood for all of the neighbors to see.
He was a small dog, well behaved for the most part, and we thought he wouldn’t run away from us. It was my mom’s idea to take him on this walk without a leash. We trusted my mom’s instinct to let him roam around the street until we learned it was a mistake and the worst happened.
About 10 minutes into our walk, Rufus was run over by a car, and my heart was broken. I knew all of the memories we had jumping on the trampoline and running around our yard were all over. I saw my mom’s guilt as she saw my heart break. Rufus was my life. I’d come home to him every day after school, and now he’s just gone.
Immediately we jumped into our family car, and rushed him in a box to a nearby animal clinic. The doctors told us he’d need emergency surgery, and wouldn’t know any results until after it was over. My parents took us back home to go to bed as we had school the next day. Since it was my dad’s day off he brought me McDonald’s during lunch time, my favorite, and said Rufus was home and okay. I was grateful for my parents, and the efforts they took to have him saved.
This all happened about 13 years ago and today, Rufus is doing perfectly fine. He still runs around like he’s that tiny puppy I first fell in love with.
He’s been there through all of my bad days, and especially my good ones. Sometimes I wish he’d really understand what I’m saying to him, so I can thank him for always being loyal to my family and me. I’d tell him he’s my first true love, and my childhood friend.
Ultimately, I’m in love, with my dog, and it’s a love that only a pet owner would understand. Over time your pet will become more than just your pet, and more like another family member. I love my dog just as much as I love my own family members. As it’s easier said than done, I hope he lives forever, just to have more time and share more memories with him.
I’m in love with my dog, and nothing can change that.