Too long has passed since I posted on the magnificence of the gift of this persnickety, wicked little fluff ball. What's the latest news? My, does my puppy believe that he is a goat!
Amos, to date, has tried to commit suicide by grapes, Celebrex, Theophylline, Singular, Albuterol inhaler, dry highlighter, chocolate, bottle cap, toothpaste, toilet paper, battery, and lip balm. Although not suicidal, Amos somehow noted the molded cherries in the trash bag that was waiting for me to carry it out to the bin tonight. While I was changing the position of the hose, he chewed through the plastic bag and polished off about a cup of squishy, moldy cherries (and pits). Lest you worry my beloved puppy dog is underfed, I would remind you that for the past seven weeks, Amos has had THREE sets of dishes to lick clean at every meal and a new aunt and uncle who have no problem sharing tasty bits...especially when Amos engages in his silent begging, that involves a close presence and very, very pathetic looks.
Aside from giving me regular panic attacks over the state of his impending demise, Amos has developed a new phobia: the sprinkler. My shadow prefers to be at my side no matter where I am or what I am doing. Even knowing the terror of the spraying water looms, if I try to leave him inside when I go out to set or move the sprinkler, he will whine or howl at the back door. However, the moment he spots me heading toward the faucet in the back yard, Amos comes bounding over and demands that I pick him up.
Yes, you read that right: DEMANDS.
So much like a little toddler, Amos prefers to be carried, especially when he is overcome with fear. On your shoulders is best, but in your arms will work. Sometimes, he will not give you (or rather me) any choice in the matter. The funniest manner in which he will let you know he wishes to be held is that he will leap up in the air to get you to try and catch him. If you miss and you bend over to pick him up, he scampers out of reach, only to return to the wild, frenetic leaping in an attempt to gain your arms once more.
You can see that Amos has no problem making himself comfortable in the bed. You can also see that he brings his babies with him. Flower Baby primarily stays up in bed, because were she not here at night he would go all to pieces. I try to limit him to a total of three babies, but right now, for example, there are eight of them in here with us. When I first get in bed and read, Amos will drape himself across my abdomen and snooze. Or he will perch on my hip if I am lying on my side. But once the light goes out, Amos either curls up at my side, pressing his back firmly against me, or he curls himself up in my arm and rests his head upon my shoulder...eventually to send his snores directly to my ears.
I can live with all his babies because Amos has learned a fundamental Myrtle lesson: Getting up out of bed and even eating breakfast does not mean one has awoken for the day. Amos has become quite skilled at going back to sleep in the mornings. In a small act of utter trust, he no longer follows me to the bathroom each time I get up or even downstairs to fetch the final dose of medication I have missed (were I to keep it upstairs I would still somehow miss a dose). Most often, Amos will deign to lift an eyelid to check and make sure that I do not look as if I am ready to venture down for the "day."
He is such a comforting companion, so attentive and ever present, I am still astounded at this gift from my Good Shepherd. His uncanny ability to follow long instructions and his willingness to sit and listen before going to do what I ask makes it like I have a room mate as well as a puppy. His devotion to sharing every bit of my life...including all moments of misery...is humbling and a salve to some of the deepest wounds I bear. His wicked, sneaky attempts at gaining contraband are a constant source of laughter for me. For example, if he wants something, he will inch closer and closer to his target, all the while feigning disinterest and acting as if he he merely stretching, finding a more comfortable position, or coming to keep you company. With the seminary husband currently staying here, Amos has become an expert in stealth when it comes to stealing his napkin. However, Amos' tendency to celebrate his victories right in front of you sort of negates his impressive stealthiness. Still, you have to smile at him.
Amos is part accordion, apparently. He can stretch himself far longer than he actually is, if properly motivated. Things on the edges of counters and tables...tasty things that is...or paper things...are no longer safe from him. Recently, Amos, while visiting at his aunt Leslie's house, figured out that he could get himself from the floor to the top of the table in a single leap. Hopefully, I have disabused him of the notion that leaping to the table top might garner him more food.
With his hard won free access to the main stair case and the dining room, it is now hard to trap him if he wants to play catch-me-if-you-can. It cracks me up that he prefers to go up the main staircase but down the servant's stairs. He also approaches them differently. He bounds up the servant's stairs two paws together. However, he scrambles up the main stairs one paw at a time, looking strangely reminiscent of a rock climber.
Although he sometimes still has a fluid understanding of the proper disposition of his solid bodily waste, Amos could not be a more perfect puppy for me. The love and affection have done wonders for me. This ability to learn quickly helps when others are willing to teach him something.We practically hold conversations. I am adored as much as a person could want. He is the ultimate snuggler. And I am never alone.
Only the One who knows the desires of my heart and every wound on my body would have provided me exactly the puppy that I needed so that not a single day goes by--no matter how miserable I may be otherwise--I am effused with puppy joy for at least a moment or two...if not hours on end.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!
1 comment:
Amos sure is a gift from you Good Shepherd.
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