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Love is something eternal （永恒的）
—Vincent van Gogh
爱是永恒的——文森特·梵高
Dad brought him home from a fishing trip in the mountains， full of cockleburs and so thin you could count every rib.
“Good gracious，” Mom said. “He’s filthy（肮脏的）！”
“No， he isn’t！ He’s Rusty.” said John， my eight-year-old brother.“Can we keep him？ Please ...Please ... Please.”
“He’s going to be a big dog，” Dad warned， lifting a mud encrusted （硬壳覆盖的） paw （爪子）. “Probably that is why he was abandoned.”
“What kind of dog？” I asked. It was impossible to get close to this smelly creature.
“Mostly German shepherd，” Dad said. “He’s in bad shape， John. He may not make it.”
John was gently picking out cockleburs.
“I’ll take care of Rusty. Honest， I will.”
Mom gave in， as she usually did with John. My little brother had a mild form of hemophilia. Four years earlier， he’d almost bled to death from a routine tonsillectomy. We’d all been careful with him since then.
“All right， John，” Dad said. “We’ll keep Rusty. But he’s your responsibility （责任）.”
“Deal！”
And that’s how Rusty came to live with us. He was John’s dog from that very first moment， though he tolerated （容许） the rest of us.
John kept his word. He fed， watered， medicated and groomed the scruffy-looking animal every day. I think he liked taking care of something rather than being taken care of.
Over the summer， Rusty grew into a big， handsome dog. He and John were constant companions （伴侣）. Wherever John went， Rusty was by his side. When school began， Rusty would walk John the six blocks to elementary school， then came home. Every school day at three o’clock， rain or shine， Rusty would wait for John at the playground.
“There goes Rusty，” the neighbor would say. “Must be close to three. You can set your watch by that dog.”
Telling time wasn’t the only amazing thing about Rusty. Somehow， he sensed that John shouldn’t roughhouse （打闹） like the other boys. He was very protective. When the neighborhood bully taunted （辱骂） my undersized brother， Rusty’s hackles rose， and a deep， menacing growl came from his throat. The heckling ceased after one encounter. And when John and his best friend Bobby wrestled（摔跤）， Rusty monitored their play with a watchful eye. If John were on top， fine. If Bobby got John down， Rusty would lope （轻跳着奔跑） over， grab Bobby’s collar （衣领） and pull him off. Bobby and John thought this game great fun. They staged fights quite often， much to Mother’s dismay. “You’re going to get hurt， John！” she would scold （训斥）. “And you aren’t being fair to Rusty.”
John didn’t like being restricted（限制）. He hated being careful and being different. “It’s just a game， Mom. Shoot， even Rusty knows that. Don’t you， boy？” Rusty would cock his head and give John a happy smile.
In the spring， John got an afternoon paper route. He’d come home from school， fold his papers and take off on his bike to deliver them. He always took the same streets， in the same order. Of course， Rusty delivered papers， too.
One day， for no particular reason， John changed his route. Instead of turning left on a street as he usually did， he turned right. Thump！...Crash！...A screech of brakes ... Rusty sailed through the air.
Someone called us about the accident. I had to pry John from Rusty’s lifeless body so that Dad could bring Rusty home.
“It’s my fault，” John said over and over. “Rusty thought the car was going to hit me. He thought it was another game.”
“The only game Rusty was playing was the game of love，” Dad said. “ You both played it well.”
John sniffled （抽噎）. “Huh？”
“You were there for Rusty when he needed you. He was there for you when he thought you needed him. That’s the game of love.”
“I want him back，” John wailed （痛苦）. “My Rusty’s gone！”
“No， he isn’t，” Dad said， hugging John and me， “Rusty will stay in your memories forever.”
And he has.
爸爸结束了丛山中的钓鱼之旅后，把它带回了家，当时它身上沾满苍耳子，瘦骨嶙峋，每一根肋骨都清晰可数。
“天啊，”妈妈说。“它太脏了！”
“它一点也不脏！它叫鲁斯蒂。”我8岁的弟弟约翰叫唤着。“我们可以收留它吗？求你们了……答应我吧……拜托了。”
“它将会是一只大型犬，”爸爸抬起它的一只被泥巴包裹的爪子，提醒着我们。“或许这也是它被遗弃的原因。”
“这狗是什么品种？”我问。这小家伙臭气熏天，让人难以靠近。
“应该是德国牧羊犬，”爸爸说。“它身体状况很差，可能活不下来。”
约翰轻轻地把它身上的苍耳子拔下来。
“我会照顾鲁斯蒂的，我保证。”
妈妈妥协了，她对约翰一向如此。我的弟弟有轻微的血友病。四年前，他因为一次常规的扁桃体切除手术差点失血过多而死。从那以后，我们对他都细心照料着。
“好吧，约翰，”爸爸说。“我们收养鲁斯蒂。但是你必须对它负责。”
“没问题！”
于是，鲁斯蒂和我们一起生活。尽管它也很听我们的话，但从最初那一刻起它就只属于约翰。
约翰说到做到，每天给这只脏兮兮的动物喂食，喂水，并给他药物治疗和清洁梳理。我认为他喜欢照顾其他人或物而不是被照顾。
夏天过后，鲁斯蒂长大了，变得英俊帅气。他和约翰形影不离。不论约翰去哪，他都如影随行。新的学斯开始了，鲁斯蒂陪伴着约翰走过六个街区到达小学，然后回家。在约翰上学期间，鲁斯蒂每天三点钟都会在操场等着他放学，不管天晴还是下雨。
“鲁斯蒂的到来一定是在接近三点钟的时候，”附近的人说。“你可以根据它来设置手表时间。”
通报时间不是鲁斯蒂唯一神奇的事。不知通过什么方式，他感受到约翰不应该像其他男孩子一样打闹。他非常注意保护约翰。当附近的恶霸讥讽我矮小的弟弟时，鲁斯蒂会怒竖颈毛，从喉咙里发出威慑且低沉的咆啸。从这以后，再没有人敢欺负约翰了。当约翰和他最好的朋友鲍比摔跤时，鲁斯蒂会在旁边非常警惕地监控。如果约翰占上风，那就没事。如果鲍比将约翰摔倒，鲁斯蒂会大步跑过去，咬住鲍比的衣领，将他拉开。鲍比和约翰觉得这个游戏很有趣，经常进行摔跤比赛，但妈妈却为此很惊慌。
“你会受伤的，约翰！”妈妈训诉着说。“并且对鲁斯蒂不公平。”
约翰不喜欢受限制。他讨厌做什么事都要小心翼翼，讨厌被与众不同地对待。“妈妈，这只是一个游戏而已。哎呀，连鲁斯蒂都知道。是不是啊，伙记？”鲁斯蒂抬起头，对约翰开心一笑。
春天的时候，约翰获得一个下午送报的活儿。他放学回家，把报纸折叠，骑着自行车去送报。他总是在同样的街道按同样的顺序派发报纸。当然，鲁斯蒂也跟着一起派发。
有一天，约翰无缘无故地改变了路线。他往常都是沿街道左转，然而这次他向右转了。砰…哐…一阵刺耳的刹车声…鲁斯蒂被撞飞到空中。
有人打电话告诉了我们这场事故。我必须把约翰从鲁斯蒂的尸体上抱开，爸爸才能将鲁斯蒂带回家。
“都是我的错，”约翰不停地说。“鲁斯蒂觉得那辆车要撞我。它以为这是另外一个游戏。”
“鲁斯蒂唯一玩的游戏是爱的游戏，”爸爸说。“你们俩在其中都玩得很好。”
约翰抽噎着。“什么？”
“当鲁斯蒂需要你的时候，你在它身边。当它认为你需要它的时候，它也守候在你身边。这就是爱的游戏。”
“我想要它回来，”约翰痛哭地说。“我的鲁斯蒂走了！”
“它没有走，”爸爸抱着我和约翰说，“鲁斯蒂会永远留在你们的记忆里。”
是的，鲁斯蒂永远活在我们心中。
Questions：
1. How did Rusty look like when he first arrived at John’s home？
2. Why did the rest of the family give in to John’s requirement？
3. How was the relationship between Rusty and John？
4. What resulted in Rusty’s death？
—Vincent van Gogh
爱是永恒的——文森特·梵高
Dad brought him home from a fishing trip in the mountains， full of cockleburs and so thin you could count every rib.
“Good gracious，” Mom said. “He’s filthy（肮脏的）！”
“No， he isn’t！ He’s Rusty.” said John， my eight-year-old brother.“Can we keep him？ Please ...Please ... Please.”
“He’s going to be a big dog，” Dad warned， lifting a mud encrusted （硬壳覆盖的） paw （爪子）. “Probably that is why he was abandoned.”
“What kind of dog？” I asked. It was impossible to get close to this smelly creature.
“Mostly German shepherd，” Dad said. “He’s in bad shape， John. He may not make it.”
John was gently picking out cockleburs.
“I’ll take care of Rusty. Honest， I will.”
Mom gave in， as she usually did with John. My little brother had a mild form of hemophilia. Four years earlier， he’d almost bled to death from a routine tonsillectomy. We’d all been careful with him since then.
“All right， John，” Dad said. “We’ll keep Rusty. But he’s your responsibility （责任）.”
“Deal！”
And that’s how Rusty came to live with us. He was John’s dog from that very first moment， though he tolerated （容许） the rest of us.
John kept his word. He fed， watered， medicated and groomed the scruffy-looking animal every day. I think he liked taking care of something rather than being taken care of.
Over the summer， Rusty grew into a big， handsome dog. He and John were constant companions （伴侣）. Wherever John went， Rusty was by his side. When school began， Rusty would walk John the six blocks to elementary school， then came home. Every school day at three o’clock， rain or shine， Rusty would wait for John at the playground.
“There goes Rusty，” the neighbor would say. “Must be close to three. You can set your watch by that dog.”
Telling time wasn’t the only amazing thing about Rusty. Somehow， he sensed that John shouldn’t roughhouse （打闹） like the other boys. He was very protective. When the neighborhood bully taunted （辱骂） my undersized brother， Rusty’s hackles rose， and a deep， menacing growl came from his throat. The heckling ceased after one encounter. And when John and his best friend Bobby wrestled（摔跤）， Rusty monitored their play with a watchful eye. If John were on top， fine. If Bobby got John down， Rusty would lope （轻跳着奔跑） over， grab Bobby’s collar （衣领） and pull him off. Bobby and John thought this game great fun. They staged fights quite often， much to Mother’s dismay. “You’re going to get hurt， John！” she would scold （训斥）. “And you aren’t being fair to Rusty.”
John didn’t like being restricted（限制）. He hated being careful and being different. “It’s just a game， Mom. Shoot， even Rusty knows that. Don’t you， boy？” Rusty would cock his head and give John a happy smile.
In the spring， John got an afternoon paper route. He’d come home from school， fold his papers and take off on his bike to deliver them. He always took the same streets， in the same order. Of course， Rusty delivered papers， too.
One day， for no particular reason， John changed his route. Instead of turning left on a street as he usually did， he turned right. Thump！...Crash！...A screech of brakes ... Rusty sailed through the air.
Someone called us about the accident. I had to pry John from Rusty’s lifeless body so that Dad could bring Rusty home.
“It’s my fault，” John said over and over. “Rusty thought the car was going to hit me. He thought it was another game.”
“The only game Rusty was playing was the game of love，” Dad said. “ You both played it well.”
John sniffled （抽噎）. “Huh？”
“You were there for Rusty when he needed you. He was there for you when he thought you needed him. That’s the game of love.”
“I want him back，” John wailed （痛苦）. “My Rusty’s gone！”
“No， he isn’t，” Dad said， hugging John and me， “Rusty will stay in your memories forever.”
And he has.
爸爸结束了丛山中的钓鱼之旅后，把它带回了家，当时它身上沾满苍耳子，瘦骨嶙峋，每一根肋骨都清晰可数。
“天啊，”妈妈说。“它太脏了！”
“它一点也不脏！它叫鲁斯蒂。”我8岁的弟弟约翰叫唤着。“我们可以收留它吗？求你们了……答应我吧……拜托了。”
“它将会是一只大型犬，”爸爸抬起它的一只被泥巴包裹的爪子，提醒着我们。“或许这也是它被遗弃的原因。”
“这狗是什么品种？”我问。这小家伙臭气熏天，让人难以靠近。
“应该是德国牧羊犬，”爸爸说。“它身体状况很差，可能活不下来。”
约翰轻轻地把它身上的苍耳子拔下来。
“我会照顾鲁斯蒂的，我保证。”
妈妈妥协了，她对约翰一向如此。我的弟弟有轻微的血友病。四年前，他因为一次常规的扁桃体切除手术差点失血过多而死。从那以后，我们对他都细心照料着。
“好吧，约翰，”爸爸说。“我们收养鲁斯蒂。但是你必须对它负责。”
“没问题！”
于是，鲁斯蒂和我们一起生活。尽管它也很听我们的话，但从最初那一刻起它就只属于约翰。
约翰说到做到，每天给这只脏兮兮的动物喂食，喂水，并给他药物治疗和清洁梳理。我认为他喜欢照顾其他人或物而不是被照顾。
夏天过后，鲁斯蒂长大了，变得英俊帅气。他和约翰形影不离。不论约翰去哪，他都如影随行。新的学斯开始了，鲁斯蒂陪伴着约翰走过六个街区到达小学，然后回家。在约翰上学期间，鲁斯蒂每天三点钟都会在操场等着他放学，不管天晴还是下雨。
“鲁斯蒂的到来一定是在接近三点钟的时候，”附近的人说。“你可以根据它来设置手表时间。”
通报时间不是鲁斯蒂唯一神奇的事。不知通过什么方式，他感受到约翰不应该像其他男孩子一样打闹。他非常注意保护约翰。当附近的恶霸讥讽我矮小的弟弟时，鲁斯蒂会怒竖颈毛，从喉咙里发出威慑且低沉的咆啸。从这以后，再没有人敢欺负约翰了。当约翰和他最好的朋友鲍比摔跤时，鲁斯蒂会在旁边非常警惕地监控。如果约翰占上风，那就没事。如果鲍比将约翰摔倒，鲁斯蒂会大步跑过去，咬住鲍比的衣领，将他拉开。鲍比和约翰觉得这个游戏很有趣，经常进行摔跤比赛，但妈妈却为此很惊慌。
“你会受伤的，约翰！”妈妈训诉着说。“并且对鲁斯蒂不公平。”
约翰不喜欢受限制。他讨厌做什么事都要小心翼翼，讨厌被与众不同地对待。“妈妈，这只是一个游戏而已。哎呀，连鲁斯蒂都知道。是不是啊，伙记？”鲁斯蒂抬起头，对约翰开心一笑。
春天的时候，约翰获得一个下午送报的活儿。他放学回家，把报纸折叠，骑着自行车去送报。他总是在同样的街道按同样的顺序派发报纸。当然，鲁斯蒂也跟着一起派发。
有一天，约翰无缘无故地改变了路线。他往常都是沿街道左转，然而这次他向右转了。砰…哐…一阵刺耳的刹车声…鲁斯蒂被撞飞到空中。
有人打电话告诉了我们这场事故。我必须把约翰从鲁斯蒂的尸体上抱开，爸爸才能将鲁斯蒂带回家。
“都是我的错，”约翰不停地说。“鲁斯蒂觉得那辆车要撞我。它以为这是另外一个游戏。”
“鲁斯蒂唯一玩的游戏是爱的游戏，”爸爸说。“你们俩在其中都玩得很好。”
约翰抽噎着。“什么？”
“当鲁斯蒂需要你的时候，你在它身边。当它认为你需要它的时候，它也守候在你身边。这就是爱的游戏。”
“我想要它回来，”约翰痛哭地说。“我的鲁斯蒂走了！”
“它没有走，”爸爸抱着我和约翰说，“鲁斯蒂会永远留在你们的记忆里。”
是的，鲁斯蒂永远活在我们心中。
Questions：
1. How did Rusty look like when he first arrived at John’s home？
2. Why did the rest of the family give in to John’s requirement？
3. How was the relationship between Rusty and John？
4. What resulted in Rusty’s death？