One winter afternoon a dog named Rufus slept in a patch of sunlight on the living room floor. Rufus was twitching once in a while because he was waiting for the kids to get home so he could go out and pee. The family left the TV on when they were gone so Rufus wouldn't feel lonely. He was sleeping to the sounds of Perry Mason and Paul Drake and Della Street but he was dreaming of the rhododendron on the lawn. He dreamed of sniffing for alien dog urine and neutralizing it with a quick squirt. Rufus woke up when he heard the school bus at the corner. He got up and shook himself and to his great surprise found that he could understand what was going on on the TV. He turned his Labrador head this way and that and his ears pricked up and quivered. A whole world opened up to him. Los Angeles in the 60's. Rufus leapt into the wonderful world of Perry and Oprah and the local news anchors.
For the next few days Rufus never left the TV. At 3 A.M. he was watching exercise machine infomercials.
It was the children of the family who realized that Rufus understood the TV. Ajax, who was nine, first said it.
``Ajax,'' mom said, ``don't be silly.'' But she couldn't help wondering too. Rufus ignored them all. He couldn't understand people or the radio or CD player, but any thing that came through the TV he understood. One night Ajax' mom was watching Rufus watching the Simpsons, and she suddenly knew that Rufus was laughing. She called Rufus. He looked up at her.
``You understand me, don't you?'' she said.
What did she want? She was buzzing at him again as she always did. He turned back to the Simpsons.
One morning Rufus awoke and found he could no longer understand the TV. He was depressed for a while but soon the old enjoyments of a dog's life took over and he forgot all about the experience.
The family didn't forget. They still believed that Rufus understood every word they said. When Rufus was old and sick Ajax sat on the floor and looked into the dog's weary brown eyes. ``Rufe, old Rufe,'' Ajax said, ``Rufe, we can get you a shot and you wont be hurting any more - Rufe, would that be OK?''
All Rufus heard was kindness and concern. He wagged his tail feebly and tried to lick Ajax' hand. Ajax thought at that moment that he understood Rufus, that Rufus had communicated with him. ``Rufus wants to stay here,'' he said, and so Rufus lived on a few days in a very sad state.
When he died the family planted a rhododendron on his grave, and for years afterward they bored to distraction any person who would stand still long enough to hear tales of the remarkable dog.