So the small dog experience is completely different from the medium and large dog experience. Gus is like a bat, hops up every where and has what I call the ” Little King” complex. He believes the world is his kingdom, and he has an iron will when it comes to bending this view.
All the dog toys are his, all of the food is his, even the grosses things, all of the people are his, the house and grounds are his. He is affectionate, but not especially obedient or eager to please. When I yell at him or correct him, he just looks puzzled, as if you must have somehow mixed him up with a mortal or ordinary dog, one of those fawning creatures who do what they are told.
Someone along the line told Gus that he was a Tyrannosaurus, not a dog the size of boot. He pops up everywhere, including, above, the top of the sofa, between the pillow and the leather. He holes up there and observes his kingdom with a wry stare.
When he’s resting, he doesn’t wish to be disturbed, he may or may not open his eyes.
If something amuses or interests him, or if there is a single crumb of food he is not supposed to eat dropped anywhere, he is on the ground in a micro-flash. He intimidates the strong-willed border collies, and continuously challenges me to play, as i am a large fuzzy dog.
I usually do, Maria claims Gus has me “snookered.” She says I let him break all of the roles.
Maybe.
Because of all the fussing he gets over his megaesophagus, Gus gets even more attention, and can do little wrong. Sometimes I see Red and Fate looking at with betrayed and puzzled eyes: “How could you do this to us?”
I’m not sure how this happened. We are off to the vets now for another megaesophagus meeting, I’ll share the details. Having a small dog is not like having a medium or large sized dog.