Gus - We Love you Little Buddy!

I wrote recently about Erin's trip to Ottawa to sing on Parliament Hill during the Unisong Festival in July 2001. John and Ryan drove to Ottawa to see her perform and on the way home ( Erin drove with them while I flew home) they stopped as they often did in Granby to visit an old friend. The phone rang here just as they were due to leave Granby and Erin's sweet little voice came over the line, "I just saw the cutest little puppy at the pet store in Granby. He's a little schnauzer, just like Tara. PLEASE Mom can I have him. Dad will pay for him if he can live at your house." And in true Lori fashion, my resolve to NEVER GO THERE AGAIN crumbled. And "Logan" began his journey home.

For the next few days I wondered if I had really and truly lost my mind. Erin HAD a dog at her Dad's place, a lovely little apricot terrier-poodle by the name of Brady. Sweet dog just barely 2 years old that I frequently baby-sat when John was out of town. Each and EVERY time that dog left my doorstep I breathed a sigh of relief. And here I was sentencing myself to 24-7 of being a dog owner!!? Tara had lived to be 13 before cancer struck her. So Erin would be graduated from university, be working and possibly married with children before this dog would finally leave my doorstep! Insanity in its finest hour!



Now since I've mentioned Tara, let me describe this little bundle of joy. An angel of a dog if there was ever one! She didn't bark for her first year of life and her first bark startled her more than it did us. She could do all kinds of tricks though her cutest one was running down the hallway, lying down with her paws in front of her and when you called "Tara, SCAMPER!" She'd propel herself down the hallway on her belly at break neck speed. She was pleasant, happy and the perfect dog for Ryan and Erin's childhood years. She loved water and her baths, would lie or sit still for hours while she was being groomed, attacked the water sprinkler with glee each and every time it was turned on and slept on Ryan's bed from the time she was a puppy ( and he was 3) right up until the end at the gracious age of 13. The perfect dog.

Enter Gus - his name was changed somewhere early  in New Brunswick when the family conference decided that Logan was not matching this puppy's personality. Logan was definitely a name for cheerful, upbeat puppy. Gus was neither cheerful nor upbeat. He needed another name. Something that went with grumpy, gloomy, cranky... and my apologies to any "GUS" people out there, but Gus was the choice. Excellent choice. Was he taken from his mother too soon and this was the cause of his morosity?  Did he come from a long line of grumpy schnauzers? Did he just not "fit" with us? Whatever the root cause, he was definitely a Gus. We jokingly referred to him as King Gustavo, as he seemed so aloof and above it all! It was as if you could see him thinking, "Some day my true family will come and take me away from all of this peasantry!"

He was a darling looking little guy. All black where Tara had been a steely grey. His first haircut was indeed a professional job and the photographs from back then look so cute! He was a determined little guy, who tackled lots of things that lesser dogs would shirk away from and somehow despite all of his quirks, we found ourselves very quickly getting attached to him and vice versa.  Wherever we were he wanted to be there too. He'd come and sit on someone's foot the whole time keeping his back turned and avoiding eye contact. He was easy to train and quickly learned to do just as many tricks as Tara... but NEVER did he scamper. That was a trick for happy dogs. Not Gus!

Top Dog!

Well the years just seemed to tick by. At times there was just me and him here in this house. There is something comforting about another heartbeat in your home even if he had a nasty habit of wanting to go out to pee at 3am. He was there barking like crazy and rattling his bowl for food when I came home. He kept me company at night when he curled up at my feet in bed while I watched comedy re-runs. He was there to do jumping jacks at the door when I'd say, "Leash!?",  prodding me to take walks when the lazy Lori would have rather read a book. Gus was my dog  and he loved me unconditionally. Now I am no fool, I know that he used me. Used me for his own selfish gains. He LOVED his walks where he could pee on every road sign and sniff at every piece of trash along the highway! He knew the choice was either curl up on my nice comfy bed or be snobbish and go sleep on a blanket on the cold floor. And his high pitched greetings when I came through the door were purely designed and executed to make me feel guilty about leaving him in the house all day while I worked! How dare I!!?  Well let me tell you Gusser buddy, ours was a symbiotic relationship. You might have used me but I sure as heck got a whole lot back from you too whether you knew it or not!!

If I searched all the schnauzer world over I don't think I'd find another Gus. He was loyal to who he loved and sometimes who he loved didn't love him back!  He had no need at all to ever befriend another canine, preferring to pretend he lived in a parallel universe where other dogs didn't exist.  Like all schnauzers he made strange vocalizations that were somewhere between a growl, a whine and actual words and he used his "sounds" to express a whole range of emotions from pleasure to displeasure! He was stubborn beyond belief and would sit with his eyes averted whenever  he knew someone wanted him to do something that didn't suit him at that moment. He could never be fed in a metal bowl, because his dog tags would clink against the bowl and he'd stand back and bark at the offending bowl. His appetite was legendary and for awhile we considered changing his name to Hoover; he was that efficient at keeping crumbs off the floor! After all how many dogs do you know that would swallow a sewing needle just because the thread seemed interesting?  I could write a book about this dog!

I guess you can all see where this leading? Last summer I noticed a swelling in his groin. A tumour, just like the one that took our beautiful little Tara-doggy. And we discussed it. Gus despite his attempt to appear aloof and independent, was actually a very needy, high-strung dog. He was approaching his tenth birthday and I knew the outcome of any surgery would be just as Tara's surgery had turned out. The cancer once contained inside that sac, would race through his body and kill him. I couldn't put him through the pain and anxiety of surgery and then have the same outcome. No surgery for Gus. A painful decision, but the quality of his life was still so good. And was right up until a month or so ago, when he started to breathe harder, or he seemed to find it harder to jump up on a chair. He slept longer and was no longer interested in going outside.

Now something I didn't tell you about Gus is that he LOVED tools. If a tool kit was opened in this house, his little black schnauzer nose was stuck in it. We referred to him as "The Foreman".  He'd follow a repairman around the house and plant his substantial backside next to the tool kit and stay there until the kit was closed and the repairman was leaving. On Wednesday of this week, a man who had done a lot of work here for us came to check on a leaking pipe, and Gus lovingly followed him and his tool kit to the basement but only made it part way down the stairs and couldn't come back up. He sat panting. And I had to carry him back upstairs. The time had come. When the foreman could no longer do the job he so dearly loved to do, the time was here.

I pitied the poor girl who answered the phone at the vet's office. How many sobbing women does she have to deal with each  month? I knew Paul would have made the call for me, but my heart couldn't back down now. If I had loved Gus enough to welcome this grumpy little  puppy into my home 10 years ago, I had to love him enough to ease his pain and let him go.


And if Gus could have spoken, here's what I think he would have said: What a great life I've had. Never been hungry, cold or mistreated. Had them wrapped around my finger right from the start. I've sniffed a lot of people in my time and I am pretty sure I ended up with the best family a regal and sophisticated dog like me could have had. Oh I know they tried to bring other dogs in here, but I am still the King. Brady thought he was boss when he came to live here in 2003, but I just let him think that! And that Sheltie that they brought here in 2005? What a joke he is! Shedding his fur all over the place! Can you say "ALLERGY ALERT!"? 

Ryan? I know I could never replace Tara in your heart, wouldn't have even tried. So long buddy. I'll miss your visits and how happy you make Mom whenever you're here.  Erin, you know I forgive you for all the ins and outs you've had in my life. I know you had to go and do the things you had to do. Even though I growled when you scooped me up and swung me around, that was my favorite part of all your visits. I knew that Paul O'Brien character was going to be a real softy. I sat up on the arm of the sofa and chaperoned one of their first dates and I KNEW he'd be mine! He loved me and if you get a chance, make sure he knows that I loved him too!    Well I guess that's it for me... oh yeah... Mom?... Thanks for saying yes to Erin.

Good-bye my sweet Gus. I am gonna miss your grumpy face.  Thank YOU for the memories.

 Gus/ Gusser/ Guster/ Gussy/ King Gustavo/ Hoover/ Little Buddy/ The Foreman/Yippy of the Yippy, Yappy and Crappy Trio/ Barker Brother #1/ Best Damn Schnauzer in the World!
                                              May 25th, 2001 - May 20th, 2011

PS... Finn misses you.