Or worse… what if he hurt Kendra? And just like that, the awful thought crept in. Maybe we needed to find Rusty a new home.
I love that dog. He’s part of our family. Thinking about giving him up made me feel terrible.
The guilt was heavy. So, we decided to find another way. Something that kept our baby and Myrtle safe, without losing Rusty.
That Friday, Patricia and I decided to go out for a date. Just to clear our heads. We went for dinner at our favorite burger place.
Myrtle agreed to stay with Kendra for a few hours. At that time, Rusty was in the laundry room. The gate was closed, as she asked.
Everything seemed okay until my phone buzzed on the table while we were eating. Myrtle’s name flashed on the screen. I answered.
“Winston!” she cried. “Rusty… he tried to attack me! He went wild when I picked up Kendra!”
I heard Kendra crying in the background.
Myrtle was out of breath. Patricia was already grabbing her purse. We raced home like crazy.
Myrtle met us in the living room, holding Kendra tightly, her face pale. Rusty sat behind the baby gate, still as a rock, ears down. “He lunged at me,” Myrtle said.
“I don’t feel safe around him.”
I nodded quietly, barely listening. Something felt off. I knew Rusty.
Knew his heart. He’d growl, bark, even block someone’s way… but lunge? “Go sit down,” I told Patricia.
“I need to check something.”
I went to the hallway closet and pulled out the security system monitor. We had a camera in the living room. Mostly to watch the baby when we were out.
I pulled up the feed from earlier that night. Fast-forwarded to when Myrtle arrived. There she was… walking in and giving Rusty a cautious look.
Kendra was in the bassinet. And there, over Myrtle’s shoulder, was a small gray backpack. We’d seen that bag before, but never thought much of it.
But then I watched as she glanced around, slipped it off, and hid it behind the couch. My heart started racing. She reached into the bag and pulled out a tablet.
Sleek. Black. Then, she set it up on the coffee table, opened an app, and pointed the camera toward the nursery.
I leaned in. Myrtle was livestreaming. At first, I thought I was seeing it wrong.
But then the tablet screen lit up with hearts, emojis, and scrolling comments. Myrtle smiled at the screen and whispered hellos. She aimed the tablet right at the nursery, like she’d done it before.
She even typed a title across the bottom of the stream:
“Nanny Nights: Part 12.”
Patricia let out a sharp gasp behind me. We watched as Myrtle cooed at the camera like some influencer, talking about Kendra’s sleep habits, feeding times, and even how long she napped. Then came the caption, “Night routine with Baby K 💕👶 #NannyLife”
I felt sick.
Our daughter’s bedtime… was content. We’d trusted this woman to care for our newborn. And she was broadcasting her every move to strangers.
Who was watching? How many? And why?
Then came the worst part. Kendra stirred in her crib. A small cough.
Then a sharper one. Her legs kicked under the blanket, and she made this awful wheezing sound. She was choking.
That’s when Rusty stood up right away. First, he nudged the crib with his nose. Then he barked.
But Myrtle didn’t react. She was scrolling on her tablet, earbuds in, completely zoned out. Rusty barked louder.
Climbed onto the rug. Nudged the blanket again. Then, he turned and snapped his jaws in the air, right beside Myrtle’s leg.
Not to bite. Just enough to startle her. And it worked.
Myrtle yanked out her earbuds, jumped up, and rushed to the crib. She scooped Kendra into her arms, patted her back, and after a tense moment, our daughter cried out. Myrtle held her tightly, eyes wide with fear.
Not just fear for Kendra. Fear of Rusty. And then she did something that made my skin crawl.
She backed out of the nursery, still holding Kendra. Shut the door. And locked it.
Rusty was stuck inside. I sat back, numb. My hands were shaking.
That night, after Myrtle left, I watched the footage again. Twice. I noticed every bark, every snap, and every moment Rusty tried to help.
He hadn’t lost his mind. He hadn’t been aggressive. He was trying to save my daughter.
The next morning, Myrtle showed up with that same sweet voice and her gray backpack over one shoulder. She didn’t know we knew. Patricia opened the door with a printed screenshot from the footage in her hand.
I still remember how Myrtle froze when she saw the screenshot. She didn’t even try to explain. She knew she’d messed up and there was nothing she could say to fix it.
She just turned and left. After the incident, we reported her stream, filed a complaint, and contacted the agency. I don’t know if she’ll face legal action, but I do know one thing.
Rusty is more than just family to us. We got a silver tag engraved with the words, “Kendra’s Guardian,” and put it on his collar. And now, he still sleeps beside the crib.
The only difference is that we won’t make him leave. We let him watch over her because we know who he really is. He’s our baby girl’s protector.
He loves her as much as we do. Honestly, I’m glad we hired Myrtle in the first place. Because what she did showed us Rusty’s true worth.
We don’t need to worry about anything with him by our side.
