Growing up in the sticks with lots of land our dogs pretty much roamed around as much as they pleased. They ran all day, braved the elements, and just had fun doing what dogs do best.
Our family had a dog named Rusty. He was a good little mutt who was sweet and somewhat adventurous. He often liked to get into things and bring back home small dead rodents to the dismay of my mother. Rusty took it upon himself to chase any creature that stepped onto the property so we didn't have any problems with deer, possums, or the occasional cow that broke down a fence. One day though he surprised everyone.
I was twelve years old when I came home from school and was greeted by Rusty who had something in his mouth. He ran to my feet and dropped a magazine on the ground. I picked it up to find it was something out of the ordinary. My dog had retrieved an issue of Hustler magazine.
I called my friend Shawn, who lived up the road, to tell him the news.
Shawn: Rusty brought you porn?
Me: Yeah. I got off the bus and he....
Shawn: ....I'll be right over.
I was the most popular kid on the road for a week at least. My dog brought me porn from whereabouts unknown. Yes I miss that dog.
"I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it." - Abraham Lincoln