Gus is a popular dog, inside and outside of our farm. Small dogs are popular in America now, and I am glad we got Gus, I am learning a lot about the small dog experience, so much for my snobbery and misconceptions. I am glad we decided to treat Gus as a dog, and not a furbaby.

Because of this, he has, in fact, become a dog. He has no sense of himself as little or vulnerable or precious. He does what our dogs do, goes where our dogs go. So far, he is handling the cold mornings without any vest or signs of discomfort. He loves to sit up on the donkeys – he can’t get himself up, but he jumps off when he wants – and surveys his new kingdom.

The donkeys are fond of him, and the sheep are stymied by him, they are not sure whether to run over him or away him, so they just stop for him, just in case.

This morning, Maria went out to commune with Lulu – Lulu loves Maria very much – and she parked Gus up on Lulu’s back where he sat quite comfortably. Lulu does not mind having him.  Gus enters into the rhythms and rituals of hour lives, we have not altered our lives for him.

He is a lot of fun, and there is also something inspiring to me about Gus. He shows us all once again that we are bounded only by our frail imaginations. He does what he wants to do, he is the little dog who could, not the little dog who can’t.