101 Dalmatians...and Gus

This is Gus.

Gus is a two year old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and the pride and joy of Younger Son and his B'shert. That makes Gus my grandpuppy and the apple of this Bubby's eye. (Yes, that is is my Sunday morning self on whom Gus has obligingly draped himself over.) In my mind, this dog can do absolutely no wrong and frankly every single thing that he does is either adorable, massively cute, or just plain brilliant. I mean, really. Would a son of mine have a stupid dog? It isn't even remotely possible.

Gus is very much at home here. When he comes for a visit he immediately races into the family room in search of greetings and hugs from his doting grandparents. And I do mean hugs. He actually throws his front paws around my neck and snuggles against my cheek until I reciprocate his canine embrace. He is sweet and he is smart. He never barks, even when the doorbell rings, and his only fault seems to be that he likes to cuddle a little too much and a little too often. Only the worst of humanity wouldn't be enamoured by a dog like this one. 

Because he is so very comfortable here, Gus will often come to spend several hours at a time with us when his people find that they can't get home to feed or walk him. Last night, was a red letter day in Gus' short life as we celebrated his first sleepover with Bubby and Zaidy.

I had stuff planned for the little guy. We would play games and chat. Maybe we'd go for a walk in the November chill. But in truth, Gus isn't really all that active. He likes to loll around and sleep. He eats daintily and cautiously begs for a bit of my meals. Occasionally he will remind me of his natural needs and nudges me ever so gently to take him outside. (He really is a Stepford dog.)

But what Gus seems to love most of all, is to watch television. And he is fussy. It can't be just any programming. It has to be shows or commercials that feature dogs. He goes nuts for them. He is extremely partial to the new Target Christmas commercial with the bulldog running across the screen. He already knows the music and races to the front of the TV every single time it airs. Now, I have had dogs for the better part of my life, but I have never before witnessed any of those animals so fully engrossed in television. It is truly a spectacle to behold. I never even knew that dogs could process the two-dimensional images so fully and so completely as Gus seems to. 

The Husband and I decided that since Gus was going to be spending a prolonged period of time here yesterday, we would download something from Netflix for him to enjoy. And what better film for him to delight in than 101 Dalmatians. In truth, I was very interested to see how he would react to both the constant barrage of puppies scurrying across the screen and to Glenn Close's masterful portrayal of Cruella De Vil. I had planned on engaging him in a very intellectual dissection of the movie following its airing, but Gus was having none of it.

Check it out for yourself.

He couldn't have cared less about the humans. If the dogs were on, he was fully engaged. If Cruella was around, he retreated to his chair (yes he has claimed a chair) and waited patiently until the next puppy sequence. He pretty much watched the entire film this way. Since he refused my invitation to a post-mortem, my guess is that he rated it four paws up.

I have been pining for a dog ever since we lost our beloved and strangely goofy yellow lab almost ten years ago. And while I would excitedly and immediately run to the shelter if The Husband would ever relent, Gus is, for now, the perfect compromise. He comes, he visits, he snuggles, he watches TV, and then he goes home to his people. What more could a grandparent ask for?

Gus and The Grandparents

The grand-puppy came to spend a few days.

Cute, isn't he? His people were terribly excited to watch the Buckeyes pummel the Wolverines in the flesh, so The Husband and I became babysitters for this American Thanksgiving long weekend. He came to us totally equipped. Equipped with copious amounts of paraphernalia, toys, food, treats, medication, and above all...instructions. Things we should absolutely do and things that we should absolutely avoid. He has spent time here before and is quite comfortable within our walls, but every day in the life of a five month old puppy is like thirty-five in people days. Change is the only constant. So, while Younger Son and his Young Lady had the best of intentions in detailing their instructions, they failed to note the fluidity of puppydom.

Here are a few examples of the expectation versus the reality.

His Day Bed

Where he actually sleeps during the day

His food bowl

Where he demanded I place the food, because he was afraid of the bowl

The time we were told to expect him to awaken on the weekend

The time he actually woke up on the weekend

His myriad of chew toys

That on which he would rather chew

That with which he would rather play. Look carefully for the nose and tongue prints

His bathroom

Where he thought his bathroom was on day 1

We are new to this grandparent thing, but I think that I have finally figured out why it was that I had to de-program my own kids every time they went to stay with Bubby and Zaidy. I think I've got it. The key to a successful grandparenting experience. Ready??

1. Go with the flow. 
2. Don't get too worked up if the kids aren't doing exactly what their parents had hoped they would. 
3. Spoil them just a bit. (ok. Maybe more than just a bit. After all that is where all the fun is!) 
4. Show them off to all of your friends.
5. Return them in one piece so that nobody is the wiser to all the damage you have inflicted upon the progeny and their best intentions. 

It's been fun Gus. Time to go home!

Gus and The Art of Teshuva

As autumn settles onto a city that still longs for summer, and as I still pine for a Blue Jay team unsaddled by season ending injuries that might have propelled us into October baseball, or a hockey preseason unfettered by greedy billionaires and millionaires, I finally have a moment or two of solace to reflect over the just completed High Holy Days.

I have often wondered (sometimes aloud) about others who lead their communities in prayer and music over the Days of Awe. Do you all find it as difficult as do I to discover an inner space in which to reflect, contemplate, and to perhaps converse with that still small voice found deep within? Are we so immersed in the task before us that we tend to overlook our own teshuva-repentance? I have attempted mightily to avoid this....

but I often fail miserably as my mind and voice are always set several pages ahead to avoid dry spots and gaps in the services. I struggle greatly to find that personal space. 

This year something happened to compel and encourage me into conscious and meaningful acts of teshuva. What happened? He happened. 

Meet Gus. Gus is the new adoptee of Younger Son and His Young Lady. Since the aforementioned are currently (and temporarily) residing with us, so is Gus....and all of Gus' paraphernalia. Now...regular readers of this space will know me to be both canine loving and canine friendly. I have been actively lobbying for a dog ever since our big goofy Labrador left a huge hole in both heart and home, so having Gus arrive on Shabbat Shuva, right smack in between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur was an excitement I could barely contain. He is sweet, lovable, easy on the eyes, and smart. Although there have been some frustrating training moments that have challenged two sleep-deprived, working young adults, he really is learning fast. He loves to cuddle (as I type this post, I am contorted into a still to be invented yoga position because he has decided to fall asleep in my lap) and he rarely barks, putting aside the stereotype of small and yapping dogs. 

But....Gus is a puppy...a baby. He requires constant attention and even more supervision. It has been almost 20 years since we have had a puppy in this house. I hadn't forgotten it all as much as I had romanticized it. The schedules, the chewing, the worrying about inadvertently poisoning the poor creature because he is digging in a houseplant, the standing in the rain waiting for him to....well you know. And believe me when I say that I am happy to do it all. I have become quite attached to this little guy, but I must admit that 20 years is a very long time. I seem to remember that I had an endless storehouse of energy back then. To where did it all disappear?

Gus is a walking advertisement for teshuva. He has reminded me to consciously curb my temper, to re-develop my patience gene, to refocus my attention on something other than myself, and to willingly accept the wondrous affection and unconditional love that goes hand in hand with sharing one's space with a dog. In these past ten days, I have become a grandparent. I have had to listen to and follow the demands of my children when it comes to how they wish to rear their child, all the while curbing my selfish instincts to shamelessly spoil the creature rotten and let him have free reign of the house. (I must admit that it would be so easy to do. He is just so damned cute!) But I refrain and restrain, knowing that I must act in the best interest of Gus and his long term well-being and the long term mental health of Younger Son and His Young Lady. I have turned inward and have rediscovered a long-dormant part of me. Gus made me remember what the Yamim Noraim are about. U'tshuva, u'tfillah, u'tzedakah....But repentance, prayer, and charity temper judgement's severe decree. 

It is so very easy to get caught up in the extraneous stuff around the holidays, so much so that the purpose often becomes camouflaged. This year I was reminded of it all by a 7 pound Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. This year I found that still small voice within.