Rusty's 9th adoptversary

 9 years ago, on 24 March 2017, I got my first dog, Rusty. She was about 5.5 to 6 years old at the time and she needed a home. It holds true that I didn't rescue her, she rescued me.

With thanks to the persuasive powers of friend Sonja, to whom I am eternally grateful, Rusty came to me. From the moment we met, we had a connection and I count my blessings that we get to celebrate our 9th year together today.

At around 15 years old, Rusty is an old lady. She looks good, has super-soft, magnificent fur, and a lot of sass. She never turns down a meal and never says no to a treat. Eyesight and hearing are there but diminished, but there is nothing wrong with that nose. She still loves doing errands with me, and she loves going out on walks. These days, walks are short, somewhat slow, filled with sniffing, and she dictates the route. I let her wander where she would like to go. She has a bit of doggy dementia, seemingly confused for a moment - just like me when I walk into a room and forget what I went there for. I keep her on lead now on walks - she gets unsettled if I am out of her sight.

Rusty has always been a mom's girl, with little interest in other dogs or people. She is still like this and she always has an eye on me. She has become more bossy, herding me to bed when she has decided that I'm working too late at night for my own good (and she is correct).

Realistically, I know that my time with Rusts is limited. That we've made it this far, with her at around 15, is very special and fortunate.

My Rusty girl, happy adoptversary  

Pictures on top left and bottom right are from our first afternoon together when I brought her home.