Rusty Beltz
864 Bayview Rd
Neenah, WI 54956



Dear Rusty,
        I love you. I don't know if you know me, but my name is Lady and I live at the Keely residence. I know we've only met once or twice, but you're the dog my dreams. I know you're 5'11" from head to tail, but I'm 11". We can make it work. I've been following you for quite a while, and I know all about you.
        The first thing I noticed about you was your looks. Your glossy coat of golden hair tempted me so. Your eyes are the eyes of a wise dog, knowledgeable beyond his years. Your paws, with their menacing claws, are ferocious. Yet, your ears preach unconditional love. Your tail, strong and powerful, fills me with desire. Forgive me, I have gotten carried away, my love. Your beauty lies not just without, but also within.
        My dear Rusty, I have longed for you. Remember the day you brought that deer leg home? You were so proud. Over the years you have brought home many a kill. I will never forget the day you showed up with a "lucky" rabbits foot in your mouth. Remember? It was all bloody. The rest of the rabbit never showed up. I can't remember the number of birds you've swallowed. How about that duck you caught in mid-air? Rusty, my love, you are a great hunter. Even today, in your old age, I see you chase squirrels up trees. And, while you may not catch the squirrel, you nonetheless pee on the tree he is hiding in. I have always wished for such a brave and ferocious hunter for a mate. Rusty, I want you. I want you bad.
        You were a rascal in your teenage years, my love. You went for lots of "walks." You'd leave and not return for hours. You had me worried sick. It must have been at least three times you wandered more than two miles from home only to have a friendly stranger give you a ride home in their car. Speaking of cars, what about the time you bit the newspaper-delivery man's car. You put a dent in that thing. You cost the Beltz's about $250. That's no chump change mister! Oh, I can't stay mad at you. Remember when the Beltz's put in an electric fence in hopes of containing you? I still have tears in my eyes watching you sprint right through it. I recall watching you chasing a rabbit across the lawn. When the rabbit left the yard, you just kept on going . You'd wince in pain as you crossed the fence, but you never stopped. The problem then was getting you back in the yard. Oh, Rusty. It just goes to show how stubborn you are.
        You are a lover and not a fighter, and yet you protected your property so well over the years. Remember the first day you arrived at home? The neighbor's Chihuahua was scurrying about your yard. As soon as you were released, that dog never again entered your yard. In fact, I believe you took over his yard as well. As you became more acquainted with your surroundings, you extended your territory. Soon two houses down on either side were yours, until you met Duster. Duster, that mean old dog the Dillon's owned, was your archenemy. He wanted the Harding's yard, but so did you. I remember the fight so vividly. Duster, the old, scarred veteran, versus you, my lovely, athletic, and yet inexperienced puppy. The fight took place in the mid-day sun for all to see. You took the initiative, laying into Duster's back. But Duster fought back, grasping your tail and refusing to let go. Oh, how I worried. It appeared your tail would be ripped completely off. Yet, you prevailed. Duster limped home bruised and battered, while you stayed to mark your territory. It may have been your finest moment.
        You are not just a ferocious beast, however. You can be a cuddly teddy bear. Oh, how I wished to be one of the Beltz children as you let them use you for a pillow. Remember when those kids used to zip you up in a sleeping bag so you couldn't escape? Remember when they dressed you up and made movies of you? Remember? No normal dog could take such abuse, but you did. You'd be wearing high-heeled shoes, a tutu, jewelry, and fashionable glasses and still you only let out a grumble. I still recall how you would raise your eyebrows in a look of distress as another garment was put on. You were so good to those kids, now it's time to be good to me. I want to be cuddled the way you cuddled with them.
        In all my years, I have never seen anyone eat as much as you have in one sitting. Human food tastes good, I think all dogs can agree. But you, my love, are a human food consumer extraordinaire. The first thing the Beltz's tell the dog-sitter is hide your food. Why? I wonder. You ate 48 cupcakes, and the wrappers, off the kitchen counter . You took a whole chicken out of a pot on the stove and I ate it. You have taken literally dozens of loaves of bread off the counter. The counter is four feet off the ground! You have eaten suet balls, peanut butter-seed balls, even a whole cheese log at a Christmas party . I remember when you were scared of fire. But I noticed you got over that fear when brats started disappearing from the grill. Even two weeks ago, in your old age, you managed to snag two, count 'em two, beef tenderloins off the neighbor's grill. That's like twenty pounds of meat! I have never seen another dog so skilled at taking food right out of people's hands. Did you enjoy that beef gordita Matt Reid had in his hand? Rusty, Rusty, Rusty. What a dog.
        You are a great hunter. You are a child's play thing. You are a fearsome warrior. You are a food fanatic. But mostly you are a silly, silly clown. Rusty, you do so many funny little things. I know your prideful and don't really want to hear this, but you are just so adorably cute. For instance, when you fall asleep, you frequently begin kicking your legs and panting. More than once I have seen the entire Beltz family staring at you and laughing. How about the way you beg for food? You lean your whole body against the food-containing closet, thump your tail ferociously against the door, growl menacingly, all the while giving the saddest puppy dog eyes you can muster. It's just plain silly, my love. I think it's so cute the way you dive on tennis balls. You pounce on them as if they are mice, and often, in the winter, you end up burying them in a foot of snow never to be found again. Speaking of tennis balls in snow, you look so funny when you dig. You rear your head back and wildly paw the snow, like a horse trying to throw its rider. Hmmm boy would I like to be that rider.
        Rusty, I love you. I have never loved another dog the way I love you. You are kind and gentle yet brave and ferocious. You always know the right type of bark for the right time. You do so many outrageous things, but each one just makes me fall deeper in love. Rusty, we are kindred spirits. We were meant to be together. If not now, when? If not me, who? Rusty, I am the dog for you. Love me as I love you.

Love,

Lady Keely