A Spotted Past

Hello. I was born in 1950-51, can't remember which. I was just a pup at the time. I was up for sale. A man in his mid 40's, silver hair, came one day to look around at us pups. At first I was sure he wouldn't be taking a liking to me.
The two men talked, the silver haired man went on and said his little boy missed his Buster and we really could use a dog for the farm.
The man with the silver hair picked me - with the big rusty spot on my back, that's how I got my name. Best that I can remember we went straight to the farm. There was some excitement that day, I was the only dog on that farm, the farm of Gustaaf Arnou. I had two little kids and a bigger one to protect, although no one really told me, I just knew it was this way. Well I looked around at all these people and I knew that I would be happy here chasing the cattle and watching who came in the driveway. When the little boy was sad I would crowd up to him and let him know I was there for him, almost always he smiled.
I would always put myself between those children and anybody that I didn't know very well. I didn't want to see any harm come to the little ones.
The farmer, Steve Arnou, was happy that the kids were glad about me, Spotty. I had my own particular bark  for Bill Gabel, Steve's hired man. Steve would say, that's Bill's bark Spotty knows. The lady of the house always fed me on time. She often said, I love my dog best of all.
The kids grew up and didn't need me much, but they always found some time to play. There was a time I was hit by an old truck and almost didn't make it back to the house. Steve, the farmer told me to go into the garage, he then got me an old coat to lay on. I was better in a few days.
Since that day I thought it was necessary to chase old trucks, to settle a score. Well you know I could put the cattle in the barn as quick as any dog. Steve would shout out, Spotty, fetch em up boy!, and I would do exactly that. The lady of the house would often sit on the bench next to the garage. I would come in from the side and work my head under her arm, and most of the time she would hug me and say, look, Spotty want to be hugged.
I liked my share of hunting. Sometimes I would tangle with a skunk, then I would roll myself in the manure pile. No one would come near me for a day or so. Sometimes the boy would call me over and pet and hug me big time. I was pleased with that idea! I suppose my favourite time was chasing old trucks. I couldn't get it out of my system. Oh I felt okay about running strange dogs off the farm, you know it's my territory! Unless I was busy elsewhere I would meet the kids coming home from school. Sometimes they had their own friends, and I wasn't important at that time. Steve sold the farm in '62. I moved along with them. It was worth being their dog everyday.
Later on the following summer, I chased one too many trucks. I got smashed bad, I made my way to the dog house out back, there I laid in pain. That young boy, now a young man, came with the 22 rifle. I looked in his eyes and he looked at mine, we both knew what needed to be done. I went with dignity. I did what I liked best, chasing old trucks.  I'm not forgotten, just ask Stanley and I miss him too!

Written by Stanley Arnou - Posted February 2000 to Ken's web-page for others to read....