Rusty
“Let’s go for a walk,” said Patricia. “It is a beautiful autumn day.”
“We have been so busy with the ranch,” said Patricia’s husband, John. “We haven’t been able to enjoy ourselves. I think a walk would be perfect.”
Patricia and John went for a walk. They saw the mountains off in the distance and wheat fields in the foreground. The road they were walking on was lined with tall trees.
“I had almost forgotten how beautiful autumn in Lethbridge is,” said Patricia.
“It is beautiful,” said John. “We must get out more.”
“I agree,” said Patricia.
Patricia and John were just going to turn around and go home when a bundle of rust coloured fur jumped out of the bush.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Patricia. “He is adorable.”
“He certainly is,” said John. “And his fur colour is very unique.”
“I don’t see any tags or a collar on him,” said Patricia.
“We can post him on Facebook,” said John. “He must belong to someone.”
“Come on Rusty,” said Patricia.
Rusty jumped up and licked both Patricia and John’s faces.
“Maybe Rusty is his real name,” said Patricia.
“He sure seems to like it,” said John.
Patricia posted photos of Rusty on Facebook. She got tons of comments about how cute he was but nobody claimed him.
“I guess Rusty is ours,” said John, a month later.
“It looks that way,” said Patricia. “Nobody has claimed him.”
“We need a good watchdog here on the ranch,” said John.
“Some watchdog he is going to be,” said Patricia, laughing. “All he will do is lick the intruders.”
Moral of this Story:
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