2/27/2011 - how I could have been better. . .

This will be the absolute last post about Grr for a while, I promise.

It's just that he really has taken over our lives, whether out of our fear that he will randomly pee on the rug (as he did nonchalantly this morning) or out of fascination at what looks like perfectly applied mascara and makeup around his eyes.  It is one of the most prominently basenji-like features about him, evidence that he does indeed come from an ancestral line of Egyptian dogs.  My sister Linda met him yesterday and remarked that sometimes, his face reminded her of Anubis.

We had taken him over to my parents' house in order for him to meet Elliot, their golden lab, and I was justifiably nervous.  Grr is still maddeningly unpredictable, and Elliot, to my knowledge, has had little to no exposure to puppies.

Amazingly enough, Elliot was exceedingly responsive and patient with Grr.  She watched out for him and gauged his excitement and moods the whole time we were there.  When she was playing fetch with her ball, she would notice that Grr was bounding around her in an effort to take the ball from her mouth, so she would gently drop it on the ground and wait for him to pick it up.  Grr would be licking and nipping at her, but she would do nothing more than turn her face, occasionally raising a paw and giving him a much needed, but gentle smackdown, right on the head.  They even took an all-too-brief nap together on the couch:

Grr, in return, was completely enamored with Elliot, doing everything she did.  If she ran after her ball, Grr would be right behind her, running like his little life depended on it.  If she walked into the kitchen to see what my parents were doing, Grr would be right behind her to see what she was doing.  When San and I took them both out for a walk, Grr made sure to smell every patch of grass that Elliot did, even if it means circling back from wherever he was.  His fear of the outside disappeared completely while Elliot led him around.

He became Elliot's shadow, her Mini-Me, a younger brother to his older sibling.  When we told my parents of this behavior during dinner, my mom immediately brought up a boy I went to kindergarten with named Justin.  I remember but two things about him: he always had snot running out of his nose, most of which eventually ended up living on the cuff of his sleeve; and he wanted to be best friends.

Unfortunately, I was a total brat and shunned him, wanting less to do with him the more he wanted to do with me.  As an adult, I'd like to think that I am not and never was a bully, especially the vulnerable position I later found myself in in relation to bullies (this will come as a shock, but I was never considered cool or rode with any of the popular kids).  But thinking about Justin after all these years decades, I have to admit that I qualified as one when I was five, at least to one other boy.  Who knows why Justin even looked to me the way he did, as I certainly gave him reason not to.

Basically, I could not have treated Justin more differently than Elliot did Grr, and watching my own little puppy acting the same way Justin did kind of broke my heart.  I felt genuinely remorseful for something I had done so long ago and had more or less forgotten all about.  Elliot showed me how I could have been better, and I don't think she even had to try.