Early one summer day as I opened the screen door to feed our feeble terrier, Lacey, a large ball of energy with tufts of red-brown hair accosted me. 
   “Look who followed me home,” my husband, Bruce, shouted as he made his way up the driveway from his morning walk. He pointed to the overgrown puppy whose panting face made it appear as though he was smiling from ear to ear.  “He was wandering in front of the house this morning, and he followed me the entire time I walked.  I bet he’s hungry,” Bruce commented, as we both observed the pup lick his lips and look at Lacey’s food with longing.”
     “If he wasn’t so sweet he would be scary-looking with all that red fur and those strange green eyes,” I remarked as the dog continued to greet me enthusiastically.
      “Still he’s got to be thirsty after walking two miles,” Bruce persisted.
      “You know if we feed him, he’s going to stick around.  We already have Lacey.  Do we really need another dog to feed and care for?” I warned, not sure I wanted to take on the responsibility and expense.
     “I’m not sure we have a choice.  I think he wants us!” came my husband’s resolute reply.
     I brought out another bowl and the stray puppy ate like there was no tomorrow.
     “Poor thing, he is starving,” Bruce remarked.
     “We’ll see who you’re calling ‘poor’ when the kids wake up.  If they lay eyes on him, they’ll beg us to let him stay.  He’s a big dog can we afford to feed him?”  Money was tight and some months I wondered how if would feed the kids much less another animal.
     “Honey, I think it’s a mute issue,” Bruce informed me pointing to our new canine friend who sat perched on his hind legs, his eyes dancing with delight from his full stomach.
     I was right.  As soon as my youngest, Ashley, spotted a dog on the front porch, all I heard all morning was, “Please, mom, can he stay?  Let us keep him, please.”
      “We’ll call him Gus,” Ashley stated with conviction.  She named him after the invasive and enthusiastic mouse, Gus-Gus, from Disney’s, Cinderella.  When the other two kids woke up they played and laughed with their invasive and energetic friend all day.
     Realizing I was outvoted by evening, I informed my kids that if we were going to keep Gus, we needed to clean him up.  Since we knew nothing of where he came from, I wasn’t willing to do that in our bathtub where Lacey gets bath in comfortable warm water.  “We’ll have to bathe Gus outside and use the hose.”
     Ashley and her older brother, Jake, wrestled Gus into one spot and he sat dutifully as we hosed him with cold water and suds.  By the time of the final rinse with more cold water, I was sold.  Any dog that would put up with that must really want a home.  “O.K.” I conceded.  “Gus is ours!”
     “Yeah,” they cheered and Gus jumped and barked too as if he knew exactly what I said, and he was celebrating.
     Not long after our new pet joined the family, we moved into a trailer on a remote six-acre parcel while we built our house.  One morning as Ashley opened the door to step out, I heard Gus growling and barking. I rushed to the doorway and spotted a rattlesnake right where Ashley would have stepped.  Gus saw it first and was warning his girl to as best as he could.
Late one evening during the construction process, Sarah, my oldest, pulled in the driveway and observed a drama unfold from her car window.  Apparently arthritic Lacey dog had fallen into a ditch that had been dug for the septic tank.  Unable to get out, Sarah watched as Gus moved in behind her and gently nudged her to safety.
     But it was the middle child, Jake, who had the honor of being the family member that with whom Gus would “talk.”   Gus adopted our family just as Jake was moving into the angst of adolescence.  Often as he lay on his bed troubled with the current state of his junior-high world, Gus would come into his room, settle down by his bed, and growl in low hushed phrases that resembled sentences as if to comfort and encourage his boy.
     One Thanksgiving when Gus was up in age, I commented during a family discussion about how he just showed up out of nowhere, like an angel, and has watched over us ever since.  Sarah’s husband, Shaun, laughingly questioned, “Do you still think Gus just showed up on your steps that day?”
     “Shaun, what do you know?” my husband queried.
     “Sarah spotted Gus wandering the streets by the high-school and she brought him home and left him in the front yard because she knew you’d all fall in love with him!” Sarah owned her deception and we all had a good laugh.
     Gus may have found a home that day, but we were blessed with one of God's best examples of love and loyalty. Now I live each day trying to be half as faithful as my dog and half as good as he thinks I am!