I wrote here several months ago about a dog that turned up in our front yard while we were having some work done on a water leak. I opened the door. He came in and never left. Yes, Gus (I immediately named him) has made himself right at home. I did attempt to find his owners, with no luck. Honestly, I think he was dropped off. What the fuck is wrong with people?
Let me start by saying, Gus is a delight—for the most part. He does try to bite my husband on occasion, but he always gives a growl of warning first. This drives my husband crazy because he considers himself “The Dog Whisperer.” He thinks all dogs should love him. Gus, on the other hand, loves me to the ends of the earth. I’m a big fan of his, too.
He is my shadow. Wherever I go, he is rarely more than a few feet behind. Yes, this includes the bathroom. When I’m peeing, he likes for me to scratch his butt whilst singing Baby Got Back. I know, I know. We are both weird AF.
Another one of Gus’ eccentricities is that he is definitely an ass man. The little guy goes straight for the old “nose up the butt” routine as soon as someone walks in the house. It catches Brett off guard every afternoon when he gets home from work. It also never fails to make me laugh. However, I have fallen victim to that cold wet nose as well, in a dress, nonetheless. It was shocking.
We call him our little hobo because he is a total flight risk. Let him off a leash, and he just wanders away. Our other two dogs are very well trained and come back when called, not Gus. He is a ramblin’ man. Brett says we are his captors. I think that is a little harsh. We are certainly lovable kidnappers.
Another part of the reason he may not have good recall is that I’m not totally sure he knows his name yet. This may be because I have a myriad of pet names for him. Gussy, Gusaroni Macaroni, Gussy Goo, Gustov, Gustopher, and Gus Gustopherson are just a few of the things I call him. He’s probably more than a little confused. Alas, I love my little man.
It has been a joy to watch him settle into our family and become a Traver. He is totally acclimated now. He sleeps with the girls and us. Yes, three dogs in the bed are a lot. Oh, well. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Dogs are the universe’s greatest gift.
I’m so grateful this little guy wandered into my house that day. Even though we did try to find his home, I knew he was meant to be mine. It was fate. I love my little man with my whole heart. I just hope he has given up his hobo ways. I would be lost without him.
Angela Traver
What is this blog about? Well, it's a general blog, but it is also a very specific blog. If you get that reference, you get a gold star! I have been a public relations professional and writer of press releases for more than 20 years—primarily in the booze biz. I decided to do some writing for fun and embrace the humor that gets me through most days. Hopefully it will make you chuckle—or at least smile. I’m a certified crazy magnet, and more than a little nutty myself, so buckle up. Also, I have two vices—profanity and red wine/whiskey. You’ve been warned. It should also be noted, that I’m a HUGE Bob & Sheri fan. I’ve been a listener for more than 20 years. This opportunity is a dream come true and it may have made me cry. That being said, I cry at everything. If you are into booze, dogs, food and/or knitting, hit me up on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter (although I’m terrible at Twitter and it scares me) @kyspiritsgal. You can also find all my previous blog posts at www.kyspiritsgal.com.
