Rusty the impatient golden retriever

It is old saying:  “Every dog has its day.”  But for Rusty, a golden retriever on Manhattan’s lower east side the question is “when?”  I sat down with Rusty for an interview before he went to audition for the role of Willy Loman in a new  production of “Death of a Salesman”.

“Yeah, I know.  The role has never gone to a dog before, but if  Dustin Hoffman can play it…..” he said.

“I’ve been in Manhattan for a couple years now and what have I got to show for it?  Nothing! Everybody I know has moved on.  That chiquahua in the movies?  I knew that punk when he was hustling in the village.  Now he’s neck deep in ass in Hollywood. What about me?  The only job I’ve been able to get is ghostwriting Maureen Dowd’s column.”

“I’m busting my ass here looking for work – any job no matter how humiliating.  The other day I rounded up some strays and brought them into the kitchen of a Vietnamese restaurant.  They thought I was going to show them where the cats hung out. Poor bastards.  It broke my heart.”

Rusty’s story is a familiar one.  Every year thousands stream into New York City looking for fame and fortune.  Some succeed. Some fail.  Many end up in retail.

When he first arrived in New York, Rusty followed in many a dog’s footsteps:  He got a job as a seeing eye dog  “I wasn’t very good at it.  The blind guy I was leading ended up being crushed by a garbage truck. I guess my mind wasn’t in it. I was just trying to pay the rent while I shopped my screenplay around…..by the way, do you want to read it?  No?  Well f— you then.  You’re lucky I don’t pee on your shoes.”

I asked Rusty if he had any stories he wanted to share.  “I was supposed to be in a production of ‘Little Orphan Annie’ but that bitch who played Annie didn’t like me.  I mean just because I humped her leg she got me fired.  I can’t help it.  I’m a dog for christ sakes, and I’ve always liked redheads.  Hey, you gonna smoke that?” 

I gave him one of my cigarettes.

“Damn that’s a good smoke.  Thanks man.  I mean, c’mon.  I’m a good looking dog.  Whose crotch do I have to sniff around here to catch a break?”

I had one final question for Rusty:  How much longer can pursue his dream?

“I’ll give it a couple more years.  But in the end you have to hang on to your dignity.  I don’t want to end up like those dogs you see making soft core porn for Cinemax. If it doesn’t happen I guess I can go live with my uncle in Kenosha.”

I wished Rusty well on his audition and left him as he chatted up a Yorkshire Terrier, just another dog in the city.

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