Rufus

The Tale of a DogBy David McCune

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 David McCune
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-4543-2

Chapter One

A lonely, cold, Red Irish Terrier roams the isolated streets. Abandoned, he searches for food and security. An old cardboard box and a few morsels of food are his staples as he takes on the role of a street dog.

Drawn from instinct and in search of companionship, the scruffy little dog leaves the security of his makeshift home. Fast moving and noisy cars, trucks, and buses keep him on guard as he ventures out on his quest to discover his destiny. Three blocks away in a three-story townhouse, a lonely human soul patiently waits and the little dog is drawn toward his emptiness. A scratch at the door and a few travailing whimpers alert the resident of a visitor, and their connection is made.

"Hey, little fellow ... where did you come from?" I smile as I lift the little dog and nestle him securely to my warm chest. "You look sort of scared and lonely. Would you care to come in for a little treat?" I ask. The dog's eyes open wide, and his head sinks softly onto my shoulder.

I gently close the door and proceed to the elevator. "I bet you've never been on one of these," I say, pushing the button to call the elevator to the first floor. The door opens, and the new noise and vibrations startle the dog. "I need to close the door and we're going to go for a little ride," I say comfortingly and slowly close the sliding door to the elevator. Having never experienced controlled vertical movement, the dog digs his nails into me during the short ride. The elevator stops and I place him on the soft carpeted elevator floor and then open the door. He quickly exits the elevator and runs to the warmth and smell of the kitchen.

"Hey, little buddy, would you like some warm milk and a little bread?" I eagerly ask. His tail, then his entire body begins wagging. This is one hungry puppy. Completely devouring the bowl of food in minutes, he ventures into the living room. Sniffing and scurrying, he finds a chair and a safe place to rest his legs. Moments later the curly red-haired puppy is sound asleep. A few hours later, with a slight yawn and a little twitch, the pup awakes to a safe, secure new world.

The little guy must be lost and his owners are frantically searching for him, I began to think. "A quick trip to the animal shelter will be the best bet to find your owners and see if you have a microchip under your coat," I say, gently picking him up.

Riding in my car to the animal shelter, the young pup sleeps soundly in the seat beside me. "We're here, little buddy, let's see if these good people inside can tell me anything about you," I say as I lift him up and out of the car. Not having a collar or leash, I hold him to my chest and walk toward the animal shelter. As the sliding doors open, I begin to feel concerned about the future of my new-found little friend.

"Hello, Happy People, how is everyone today?" I greet the employees in the reception area.

"What can we do for you, Sir?" the receptionist pleasantly asks.

"I found this little dog in downtown Fayetteville and need to report him missing," I reply. The pup watches the dialogue between the two and his head moves cautiously left and right.

"First, let's see if he has a computer chip implant under his coat," she says while examining him with the detection equipment. "No chip on him," she says sternly.

"My, so now what do we do?"

"We need to fill out a report and take his picture to post on our bulletin board," she replies while pointing at the bulletin board across from her.

"So what can you tell me about the dog?" I ask.

"Well, let's see, he looks like he's around five or six months old ... and he has carpet paws," she replies, smiling.

"Carpet paws? What are carpet paws?" I ask, laughing just a little.

"That means he has lived inside and has not spent a lot of time on the street," she laughs.

"Thanks for everything, if you hear anything just give me a call," I say, lifting the pup.

"Have a nice day and thanks for bringing him in."

Back in the car the little dog quickly falls to sleep again on the passenger seat. "Well, little guy ... I guess you're my responsibility for now," I say as I gently pat him on the head.

HAVING DECIDED TO go into work with my new little friend, I pull into my parking place in front of our business. McCune Technology/Fayetteville Steel is a complete metal fabrication facility and metals warehouse. Simply put, we make things out of metal.

"Hey, little guy, let's go in so you can meet some new people," I say, bouncing him up and down in my arms as I walk into the reception area.

"What's your name, boy?" Louise asks. The little pup looks at her and licks her hand. I place the pup on the floor and he stands up on his hind legs, walks around, then lies down.

"Remember Star Wars? Remember Chewbacca? He sort of looks like him when he walks around and is the same color of the alien. I could call him Chewy for short ... maybe that will be a good name for him," I say, laughing. Not getting a positive response, the name Chewbacca is definitely out.

During the past year I played the part of young Rufus Edmisten, North Carolina Attorney General, in a TV series. "I like the name Rufus ... you look like a Rufus. What do you think of the name Rufus?" I ask the little dog. Not hearing a reply, "Rufus is your name unless someone claims you," I say, patting him on his head and then scratching under his long-haired chin.

"Come on, Rufus, let's go outside," I call, opening the door for him. Rufus follows me out to the side of the building and quickly runs round and round in large circles. Suddenly, he lifts his torso and flies up through the air ... a little longer than a normal dog should be able to jump.

"Rufus, that was a trick I have never seen before," I say, commenting on his spectacular feat. Following me back into the building, Rufus remains close by my side.

Chapter Two

Kenny O'Brian is my first memory of a dog. The Irish Setter was my five-year-old brother Bob's dog. Kenny would knock me down and, I was told, pooped in the basement. Only Bob appeared to like the dog. Late one evening strangers came into our home on Burke Street in Parkersburg, West Virginia. The strangers quickly left with Bob's dog and he was in tears.

Next, Spot came into our lives when I was in second grade. She was a Heinz 57 mix and had a large black patch on her side. Spot seemed to be the only logical name. She lived with the family for over fifteen years. She was a good dog.

Then came Z. With an idea and a $35 investment, I founded McCune Technology in 1975. I was one of the original inventors of the rear window louver seen on hatchback cars of the seventies. I had a Datsun 240Z, so the name Z was a natural fit for the little black dog that entered and exited my life years ago. He just left one day never to return.

Between 1974 and 1975, Malcolm Bricklin introduced the Bricklin automobile. This futuristic car had a pretty much indestructible body and gull wing doors. Being a fastback, this car was the perfect candidate for my rear window louver. The Grafinger's, Harry and Susan, owned a Bricklin and ran an exotic pet store in Fayetteville. I would work on their Bricklin and in trade for a set of louvers, I ended up with a dingo.

A dingo is the wild dog from Australia that roams in packs and breeds for life. When the mate dies, their life partner lies...