I’ve taken to saying, “hello, my little man,” when I see Gus. He adores Maria and follows her everywhere, but we have a deepening relationship, I like it just the way it is. Red is the absolutely perfect dog, because he is always there, always with me, and when I need to brood, think, write or take photos, he seems to melt into the earth.
He is just my dog, he goes everywhere with me, and you can’t have two of those at once, at least I can’t.
Still, Gus and I are right with each other. I do love him.
When he comes into the house, he tears through the rooms looking for me, and when he finds me, he leaps into the air, lands somewhere around my chest or shoulders and showers me with licks. Boston Terriers make the strangest noises of any dog I have known – grunting, snorting, groaning, wheezing. They are also reliably flatulent.
Sometimes, he looks like a bat, or Yoda. Or Winston Churchill.
When Boston Terriers are interested in something, their ears go straight up in the air, their eyes get wide. You have to pay attention to different things. Border collies move and run two feet or more off of the ground BT’s run around six inches off the ground.
Although Red and Fate are both much bigger and stronger than Gus, he does not seem to acknowledge that, he puffs up his chest, barks, steals their treats and toys, runs them in circles, hides under sofas and launches sneak attacks.
Gus was biting and scratching around his tail and rear so much that I finally took him to the vet.
He is so low to the ground, she said, all kinds of bugs – flies, fleas, mosquitoes, no see’ ums (tiny flies) can easily jump up onto him and bite him. We gave him some oral and spray medication, and the itching stopped. That has rarely happened with my border collies, they are high to the ground and have long and thick coats to fend off the bugs and burrs.
Gus is defenceless out there, although it doesn’t seem to faze him much. He is very serious around the sheep, modeling Fate and Red and he delights in getting right in front of them, barking and standing his ground. Most of the time, it works. Gus runs like a rabbit, if he needs to get out of the way, he does.
People I know – still surprised I got a small dog – often ask me what Gus is like. Sweet, busy and bright is what comes to mind. We held him out of bed for four months, and now we let him out just before dawn and he hops into bed for a few hours, burrowing into small spaces like a mole.
He misses nothing, loves food (which makes him trainable) and adores strangers, old people and children.
He hops around like a frog and can hop up four or five feet in the air from a standing position. He is a pretty good watchdog, in that he makes a lot of noise when strangers come by. As long as they don’t see him, he is a deterrent.
He has woven himself into our lives with determination and smarts. In the day time, he hangs out with Maria in her studio, going in and out as he pleases into the fenced in yard. At night, he likes to crawl onto my feet while I write and doze or chew things.
He is a character, we laugh and smile all the time when we see him. He takes good portraits, if I howl like a dog he looks right into the camera, ears up and eyes wide.
I am not afraid to look ridiculous in the service of my photos. And Gus is a rock star on the Internet.
“Oh, pleeaase, may I have some of that hamburger. Puhleeze?
I am your photographic star. I am a sheep herder. I am a donkey rider. I am a lover and a licker.
Puhleeeeze? Sheeesh, what more do I gotta do, eh Jon?