The Old Guard

Rufus woke with another itch. It was the weather, of course, and the room. The room was too hot, the weather too dry, and he itched. He itched to the point of scratching away skin, bleeding on his bed, and feeling embarrassed by it but not nearly as ashamed as when he fell asleep on the couch. Incontinence. That wasn’t the first time; there’d been more “episodes” as the others would say. Poor old codger. Rufus wasn’t getting old; he was already old.

It must have been yesterday surely when he’d had the energy to play with everyone. Laugh when they did goofy things – and, oh my, the squeals of delight that would come out of their mouths would make the world laugh. Kids they were. Just kids. Adorable. Sweet. It couldn’t have been that long ago when they’d plead, beg, for him to stay in their bed until they fell asleep. On him of course. It was heaven.

And now? He saw them less and less and less. Oh, when they’d come for a visit they’d lean over, give him a hug, maybe a kiss and for a moment it was like they were young again, just children, toddlers. He missed those days. Who wouldn’t? If they fell and hurt themselves, he was the first one on the scene helping them up, kissing away the tears. He remembered so well…oh so well…when that strange man walked towards the lawn where they played, digging for “treasure” in the dirt. Ha, he guessed he was the one who started THAT game.

The man was a stranger. It didn’t seem right the way he looked around, looking for adults. He didn’t seem right at all. And he didn’t see Rufus digging behind the shed. Nicky couldn’t have been more than two, two and a half, at the time. He was still wearing diapers, or maybe that was some other child. Rufus was forgetting a lot. The man stood at the gate, always looking around, and asked something. Rufus couldn’t understand. Joey got up. Always trusting that boy. Always trusting. He was holding Nicky’s hand and pointing down the street. The man was shaking his head, scratching his chin, and pointing the other way. Rufus couldn’t see what he was pointing at – just down the road. There was nothing down the road, no houses, just the rest of the dirt road. 

Joey pointed again and was saying something.

That’s when the man went to open the gate, still looking around. He had something in his hand. It looked like a cookie or brownies. But this wasn’t that day, the day people gave out goodies. This was not that day.

That’s when Rufus came out from behind the shed and quickly too. The man was shocked, scared. No one could say Rufus wasn’t intimidating. By any measure, he was a big fellow. His muscles rippled as he ran at the gate and there was no mistaking his anger. The man yelled something like “stay away” but that didn’t matter. The man ran, the gate closing behind him and running to a car Rufus hadn’t noticed. He could have jumped over the gate. He’d done it once, just for fun. That was close to dinner time and one thing he would not miss was supper, so he easily jumped back over, proud of his athleticism.

He would have hurt that man. He could have killed him. He would have and didn’t care about the consequences. These were his boys, his family. He’d die for them if he had to, he really would.

Rufus gently held Joey’s hand, keeping his eye on Nicky holding hard to his leg, and led them back up the porch, constantly looking over to see if that man, a bad man, he sensed that, was coming back. The man never came back. Maybe word got around. When people came, they’d usually wait at the gate, smiling, waving, and doing their best to sound friendly. Rufus would trot out to greet them, calm as can be as long as they stayed on the proper side of the gate. Friendly, yes, but eternally vigilant.

So long ago. 

Nicky wasn’t Nicky anymore. He was Nick and had his own Nicky. Joey was Joe and Joe had two little girls, Allie and Katy, and an annoying fuzzy labradoodle named Rover. Who names a dog Rover? Rufus tried to recall such a name and came up empty. Rover liked to chew on Rufus’ ears, nibble his nose, and lick him under the chin. He wasn’t so annoying; he was adorable. Rufus liked the attention up to a point. His boys had been young once, too. Rufus had been young once though he scarcely remembered those days. You had to indulge them all.

If it was a holiday, Rufus wouldn’t care. He only enjoyed their returning home. Here they were, all of them, hugging and kissing and bringing treats in. They talked, they laughed, but Rufus didn’t hear much of what they were saying and wouldn’t have understood much if he could. They all came over to him, on that couch, his couch, and hugged and kissed some more. He was happy, they could see that. Allie gave him a cookie, peanut butter, his favorite. He ate it slowly both to savor the roasted peanut flavor and because he did everything slowly. 

“Just one,” Joe said. Who was Joey to say how many cookies he could eat, especially peanut butter? But Rufus forgave him when Joey came over, sat on the couch next to him, crowding him a bit too much, but that didn’t matter. “I love you; you know that?” Rufus kissed him then and there right on the nose. Joey squealed more than his girls. Then Nicky did the same, and his boy who still in diapers, then that annoying little pup jumped on Rufus’ aching back. It’s okay, thought Rufus, let him have some fun.

They all went outside after a while. The kids were playing in the yard. Joey had thrown some coins on the lawn and brought out a metal detector telling them to find treasure. The sharp beeping hurt Rufus’ ears, but the kids had moved closer to the front, to the gate, and soon he couldn’t hear the detector. He must have fallen asleep – he slept a lot these days – but needed to get up and move around. He slipped to the floor, one leg at a time, stretched, and walked to the door. There he waited, half forgetting why he got up in the first place.

“I’ll get that old man,” laughed Nicky. “Let’s go out.” He opened the door and waited as Rufus made his way off the porch and down the front steps. Half his mind was on the kids, giggling as they picked up pennies, and the other half on why he wanted to go outside in the first place.

Nick walked with him around, gave him some space, some time, and that was just what Rufus needed. He wasn’t so young anymore. Every achy, stumbling, walk was a sad reminder of that fact. Still, here outside, with kids playing, Joey and Nicky around, it was hard not to be happy, to be grateful. And hadn’t Allie sneaked him two more peanut butter cookies!

It was near torture walking back up the steps to the porch. So much of an effort, that Rufus plopped right down on the old couch there and closed his eyes. He heard murmurs from inside, not sure of what was being said, but it didn’t sound good; quiet, subdued, a bit of crying. Talk about “when” and “how” and who would be there.

He had almost nodded off when he realized the children weren’t laughing any longer. That wasn’t right; they’d been having so much fun. He opened one eye and saw at the old gate, someone, a man, a man he didn’t know. A man he instinctively knew to be wary of. The kids clung together; they, too, didn’t care for this man. He was talking, smiling. It was a sad smile. His words were too soft to be good.

Rufus had enough. He managed to leap off the couch, jump down the steps, and, as best he could rush to the gate. He was loud, louder than one would think, louder than Rufus thought he could be. And tagging along, getting under his legs, was that Rove, barking out his warnings emulating Rufus’ lead.

The man at the gate knelt on one knee. He spoke calmly, gently. The man offered his hand. Rufus responded accordingly. He offered Rufus a cookie, a peanut butter cookie. Rufus sniffed it then gulped it down. It was good, he had to admit, and maybe this wasn’t a bad man after all. He reached over the gate to scratch Rufus’ ears. He loved that. You could tell by the way his tail wagged even though such wagging hurt his pained back. “Good boy,” said the man. “Good boy.”

Joe came out on the porch, tears in his eyes. “Mom,” he called. “Dad.”

“The vet is here.”