I remember the first time I saw him; he along with his brother and sister appeared from under a tire close to where Buster normal ate his meal.  The image of the three little pups startled me at first; where had they come from and where have they been hiding this entire time?  They were too old to have been newborns and too young to have been around for very long.  I kept my distance at first not certain as to whether or not the pups were sick; and thus were abandoned by their mother.

The following day told me the little guys weren’t sick so I began to feed them along with Buster who didn’t seem to mind.  Two boys and one girl; they all had similar patterns on their fur but the smallest boy had a black tint to his coat.  His sister; the runt of the litter, was grey, and the largest boy was the same color.

I fed them along with Buster daily and they always rushed out to eat their bowls of food happily.  Unfortunately after the course of a few weeks the smallest boy disappeared; and from his awkward behavior I concluded that he had been sick and sadly passed away.  Poor little guy.

As the pups grew their personality began to form.  The runt was shy; she was more than happy to eat but she kept her distance at first.  Her larger brother was much more trusting and playful.  He would eat just as voraciously as his sister but more and more he became less interested in the food I set down for him and became more interested in interacting with me.

He was the most attractive of the litter.  His coat was shorter than his sister’s and he had the typical soft and adorable features that were to be expected in the puppy.  His eyes were bright with life and his pant always made it seem was if he was smiling.

At first he would run low to my feet and would lick and nibble at my toes; until he was strong enough to hop up on my leg.  He would sit under me as his siblings ate and was more intent to receiving my attention and praise then his meal.  The two pups grew into what I assumed was their adolescence.

They were not mature enough to mate just yet but they were growing bigger each day.  Our routine was similar.  I would whistle to them and out he would come running before his siblings.  He’d jump up on my leg sometimes barking with excitement.  I set the food down and his siblings would eat and he would sit down on his haunches; wagging his tale with his seeming smile and wait for me to give him attention.

Rascal and Scrappy sleeping after a night of wrestling

Like any other day that same routine played out.  I sat down on the concrete and watched as they ate and he comfortable sat himself between my legs.  The air was hot as usual but I waited patiently as they finished up their food.

Buster was the first to walk away and shortly after the girl who I had named Scrappy on account of her always looking to scrap with her brothers.  David and I had named the little guy sitting between my legs Rascal and it was all but fitting.  He quickly ate and returned back to me and buried his head into my stomach to show his appreciation.  He looked up at me; tail wagging, and I cupped his tiny face in both my hands –he loved when I did that – I gently pulled his face close to mine and the licked my nose.  I then looked into his happy eyes and touched my forehead on his.  He quickly ran off the join his siblings after and that was the last time I ever saw him.

I miss the little guy; I hate to sound cliché but he was my favorite.  My only solace is that I knew he was happy before he passed; he lived a short but care free life, and he was loved dearly.  I’ll never forget the way he would greet me every day or how he would insist on my attention before he went off to play with his sister.  He’d always bring a silly smile to my face, and my memory of him will continue to do so into the future.  Rest in peace; my little Rascal.