Lest the title is confusing, the following story is actually not the worst porn film ever made. Rather, these are the chronicles of Rex, my “little brother.”

During the state fair adoption drive in October, DFW Rescue Me volunteers nabbed a cocky, little Schnauzer mix from Dallas Animal Services. (For those of you who don’t know, that’s The Pound.) From that day forward, the crew referred to the mutt as “Sexy Rexy,” but only because it had been a porn-star-naming kind of day. Rex the dog in question wasn’t sexy. At all.

He's too sexy for his shirt, so sexy it hur-urts.

Poor guy had a bum, cauliflower ear. His fur was always messy looking. His nub of a tail never wagged. I took him into our house, hoping he’d be adopted before the fair ended.

He wasn’t.

People observed: “Did you know this dog has a messed up ear?” “What happened to him?” “He looks sad.” “This dog is too old for us.” It didn’t help that Rex wasn’t  friendly when he saw other dogs or that he thought my cats needed to be eaten immediately. I was sure he was misunderstood, that he hadn’t been given a fair shake.

For the first week in our home, Rex dragged a leash when he wasn’t in his crate. He’d tried to attack and chase the cats — something Clover and Banksy didn’t seem to enjoy. Being rescue noobs, my husband and I watched every episode of “The Dog Whisperer” in an attempt to restore balance in the house and help correct Rex’s attitude. I pestered the other volunteers for advice and worked with Rex every day, several times a day. We wanted the little dude to achieve the right level of awesome for his future adoptive family.

After Rex learned basic commands and how to not behave like a total spaz on the leash, Clover cat bravely forgave him and began kissing his healed-but-still-hurting ear. Boundaries developed, a friendship was forged. Rex spent the rest of his days in our home endlessly telling Banksy how sorry he was for being such an ass, but unfortunately she was a grumbly, grudge holder when it came to things like attempted murder. You can’t win them all. Sorry, Rex.

Weeks went by, and nobody was truly interested in giving the white Schnauzer a second shot at a good life. I knew I loved him when a “thinking about it” potential adopter did finally call; I pressed mute while she was talking so she couldn’t hear me crying at the thought of never seeing Rex again. As it was, he was at my feet, standing there with the ginormous, fuzzy candy cane I’d bought for him the day before, nuzzling against me, worried about why I was upset.

I called my dad to vent about what a great little guy Rex is and how my heart was broken that he hadn’t found his perfect home based on rather vain concerns about his appearance. Before I knew it, Dad was on the two-hour journey over to my house. Sight unseen, he was sold on my foster friend. The next afternoon Dad and I went shopping for everything Rex could ever need . . . and not need. It was like a doggy fairytale.

Most spoiled dog in the world with happiest Dad ever

As I watched Rex in his new car seat backing out of my driveway, I knew it was a perfect match (and I’m not just saying that because Dad made sure they had coordinating sweaters). Those two needed one another. Dad spends his days mostly alone, isolated from the rest of our family in his retirement years. Plus, he visits my grandmother daily in her nursing home and was excited about introducing her and her elderly-without-dogs housemates to Rex. Win/win/win/win/wininfinity.

(Sadly, Clover kitty cried, looking for her pal from room to room. She found a hidden rawhide strip of his and carried it to her cat condo. Banksy threw a house party, hired DJs, drank Bacardi like it was her birthday.)

This year, Thanksgiving was extra special because I got to hang out with my family AND my new “little brother.” I brought Merlin the Magic Lab with us so that Rex could have a friend to meet and so that Merlin wouldn’t be alone in a crate while everybody else feasted. Rex, who used to be so confused about himself and other animals, ran around the house and rolled on the floor with Merlin, making happy dog sounds. We ended the day by taking three cars full of relatives to surprise Grandma at the nursing home. Rex led the pack straight to her room, where Gran yelled, “There he is!” This was exactly what I’d envisioned and hoped for Rex when we met. I just never knew it would be with my family.

And I never knew a scruffy, little mutt could bring us all together like he has. Thank dog, indeed (and DFW Rescue Me for making the whole thing possible. Without them, Rex would have been euthanized).

Rex with his Grandma. He was such a superstar at the nursing home. Again.

Rex took my nephew and niece straight to Grandma's room. He was wagging his tail to death.

It's hard work getting petted at the nursing home all night. Sigh.

Rex obviously is suffering terribly from an overdose of too much awesomeness here.