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True stories of a weird little dog who loves the Australian Bush. He would chase kangaroos, ducks, swans, rabbits, cats and anything else that moved. He would follow me out Gold Prospecting, hour after hour 7 days a week, and was a real tough little feller.
He nearly got taken by a Wedgetail Eagle, but still tried to grab his tail feathers. He did grab a mouthful of tail feathers of an aggressive black swan which was menacing a couple of little girls.
Now we are retired and in a Retirement Village, I spend my hours writing, Aileen plays online scrabble and browses the web, and Rusty sleeps and dreams about the Good Gold Days in between frequent walks.
His days are regulated by Ritual, which only he can ever alter. He wakes me up at 4.00 am give or take 5 minutes, has 3 items for breakfast, and will not be shortchanged, insists on lunch at 11.00 am, wants his afternoon walk precisely at 5.00 pm, his 1 to 1 brushing at 8.00 pm and is carried to Aileens bed, after which I get growled at if I dare to touch him.
Oh! there are lots more, but while I might forget one or two little foibles, he does not, and lets me know.
Always trying to pick a fight with any dog that we pass in the street, hates all cats except one, "Bailey" and they are good mates.
Absolutely despises Crows, we call them "Ark Ark Pidgeons", and will chase them out of sight if let loose.
Thinks that he is ten feet tall, bullet proof, AND independent, but he is the most lovable little thing that I've seen, and cannot stand being in a room by himself, so must come with us wherever we go.
All the ladies here dote on him, and he on them, but he ignores all the men, except me.
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