Dog love is a complex emotion for people, it is not the same thing as loving a human, at least for me. Dog love is complex, it is difficult for many people to manage and control, it is pure and even profound for many people.

The connections we make with our dogs (and cats) can be the most powerful emotions in our lives, sometimes deeper, purer and more enduring than our human connections.

They can also be unhealthy and disturbing to some people, it is easy to exploit a dog and use him or her to fill the holes in our disconnected lives.  Dog love can be healthy and uplifting, it can be the most painful kind of enmeshment.

After all, they are totally dependent on us,, they can’t leave or survive very long without us. They can’t tell us we are full of shit, and storm out of the house to go find a better human.

Dogs have survived the worst cruelties and destructive impulses of humans, they do it by manipulating us into thinking they love us unconditionally and without any hesitation.

Well, of course they do, dogs are genetically programmed to show us affection, otherwise they would end up like squirrels and raccoons, living outside and without gourmet treats, free meals, shelter and excellent health care.

Sometimes they have no choice but to love us or make us think they do. Their survival depends on it. We sometimes forget that dogs have no choice but to be with us, and a relationship without choice of free will is just a kind of slavery, however  benign and important.

I don’t believe in unconditional love, I feel I have to earn it, and be loved for what I do, not for the fact that I know where the food is.

I have three dogs now, Red, Fate and Gus, and I love them all, but in different ways. I have never been one to say I love all animals and all dogs equally, no matter what they are like. It matters to me what they are like. I don’t love obnoxious or aggressivenesss.

Red is my soul mate and my spirit guide and my lifetime dog.

No other dog has occupied quite so deep a place in my life and consciousness and work. I love him in  a very unspoken but deep way.

I suppose Rose came the closest to that, next to Red. She sacrificed herself to take care of me.

Fate is more Maria’s dog than mine, but I much love her free spirit and fiercely independent ways. I have never seen a border collie herd (or not herd) sheep the way Fate does, and I love her for her enthusiasm, great affectionate nature, and intelligence.

She is unique.

And then there is Gus. Maria says I am “ga-ga” over Gus, and i trust and respect Maria. Gus is not a working dog, like almost every other dog I have lived with, he is, as a small dog, living in his own realm. Since we don’t have to work together, it is all about fun. And we have lots of fun.

I smile and laugh all the time when Gus is around, he has appointed  himself the Lord Mayor Of Bedlam Farm, he is the boss of everything he surveys. Sometimes, he comes flying across the room and lands on my chest, showering me with kisses and squirming up and down. Then he’s off, Gus bends to no man or woman.

He is eager to love, not necessarily to please.

Gus is a busy dog, he is constantly moving his toys and stuffed animals from one room to another, and then back around. He is a reliably disgusting dog, eating almost everything he comes across, and is almost always burping, farting, gulping, swallowing, spitting things up or vomiting them on the rug.

He is only a puppy but he looks like Winston Churchill, old and jowly. You do have to laugh. I expect him to give us a speech one day.

When I correct Gus, or yell at him to drop a giant chunk of Donkey manure, he does drop it, but he looks at me in amazement, as if he can’t comprehend that I would make him drop something he wanted to eat.

He is an incredibly affectionate creature, especially in the morning, when we stir. When I wake up, he is often lying right next to me, head on my shoulders or Maria’s neck. He misses nothing, hears everything and cannot be tricked or fooled. Once his nose is onto something, he will track it to Hell, or at least through the house.

Gus has no consciousness of his punyness, he considers all of the earth his, and all dogs potential intruders. There is an unflappability about him that I admirer. He routinely runs large dogs off of a hiking trail, squealing for help if they don’t flee.

Guss is a fearless dog, he thinks nothing of running up to a ewe and freezing her in her tracks with a loud and gruff bark. The donkeys are also fond with him, and that is not always the case with donkeys and dogs. Gus has a diplomatic and political side, he knows how to charm when he needs to.

Gus is a small dog, but I have learned that not all dogs are small. From the first, we have treated him like a dog, not a fur-baby. And he acts like a dog.

I do love Gus, and I think it is because he is so loyal, loving and full of himself.

I tend not to go “over the top” about things, or at least I try not to, from puppies to grandkids, but of course I love Gus.

He has a  lot personality and I think in our world having a dog who makes you laugh is a great thing. I think the vulnerability of a small dog touches me on some level his feistiness and confidence on another.

I love smart dogs, I love to do things with them. I sense the vulnerability and ridiculousness of Gus, and he surely senses the same things in me. He loves the pasture and the farm, and trips in the car, but his real kingdom is the house. He stacks almost all of his toys beneath the dining room table, and marches them back and forth all day.

He and Fate teal one another’s toys all day and night and hide them around the house.

We get the dog we need. We love the dog we need. The real understanding of our love for dogs comes from us, and our knowledge of ourselves, not from them. I think I need to lighten up sometimes, I need to smile and laugh. Gus has done that for me, and also, I think, for Maria.