Friday, May 16, 2008

Strange, Little Red Thing

There are times, if only for brief seconds, when I look at Duncan and I can still very clearly see the puppy he once was, in the shape of his head with the tall point on top, the way he raises his eyebrows and looks at me when I talk to him, or the wiggle of his hips when he walks, and especially when he does that thing he does every afternoon when I get home from work: jumping up on the bed and pushing his face against the comforter, first on one side, then the other, back and forth, ear flopping back and forth as he snorts and makes whiny little grunting noises, his paws splayed out in front of him, his back end up in the air, tail swishing.

On Friday, December 24th, 2004, Duncan was still relatively new to us when I wrote in my journal:
He's adorable beyond words, this red little thing that's found its way into our lives. Somehow, the other night, he taught himself how to hug and kept climbing up behind me, one paw on each shoulder as he leaned his head into me. It was unexpected comfort and meant more because I'd just scolded him for biting me, a lesson in unconditional love.

He's three times as big as when he found us a month ago and will only get bigger. I like him this size though, when he can curl up on my lap like one of the cats, his bunny hanging from his mouth. It's a good thing he's so cute because at times his behavior can be anything but. But his amble is magnificent, and the little sniff and squat and spin and squat when he poops, and his soft voice, his big, strange paws and the slow, gangly way he uses them to climb onto the couch. He is as amazing to me now as he is challenging and I think we'll keep him.

I feel I can never do enough for him, like there's always more I can give him and teach him.

He is a beautiful boy and I've loved him since the moment I first saw him and he winked at me.
I miss that puppy terribly, but the dog he has become is far more than I ever expected or ever thought I deserved.


Lori said...

Priceless! Sweet little red boy. And your bond is evident even then, that "one in a million" dog that we all hope to find once (at least). Mine, as you know, was Ripley. The only downside of my rescues (everybody since Ripley) is that I never met their "puppy selves." I was lucky that Pyr rescue didn't ban me from knowing Brody's history, and I was able to get a puppy picture at least. Puppies are cute, but what's important is what they become... and Duncan became PERFECT for you (and vice versa).

Greg said...

Emily was already at least three when we met her, so we missed the pleasure of those early years. She'd been to the pound two or three times before we met her and she's still got plenty of issues from whatever life was like for her then.

But even now, ten years later, she has those "puppy moments" where you can get a glimpse of what she must've been like then.

NodakJack said...

I think of the pup you once were and miss that child terribly. It was great being "dad" to that tyke. However, I am MORE than proud of the man you've become. Your pics and prowess with the pen is humbling and awesome in one fell swoop.
To paraphrase my favorite blogger, "He is a beautiful boy and I've loved him since the moment I saw him and he peed on his doctor."

CJ said...

Amazing the effect they have on us. It was all so stressful in the beginning working, leaving her alone in a cage(prior to the pet door), her getting out and people calling me at work. It all seems so long ago.