If you Google or AI the word “Gubins”, it will tell you that it must be a proper noun or slang since there is no known definition in any recognizable language. I like the sound of that. I have been using the name Gubins for my dear and yet-to-be-able-to-reason charges. That means my kids, my grandkids and now, Buddy. For some reason, I have always found calling some little irrational beast a Gubins suited the occasion. It seems particularly perfect for a little 7-pound troublemaker like Buddy.
Buddy has been watching Kim and me packing our bags for our upcoming trip to Italy, Malta, NYC and Ithaca. We have spread that process out over a week both for our own convenience and to upset him less by not having our packing be a cliff of our imminent departure. But today, all of Buddy’s suspicions will be confirmed when he and Kim go to the airport to pick up Natasha. I’m certain Buddy has a good enough memory to realize that when Natasha comes, we go. We much prefer having Natasha come to stay with Buddy while we travel because he gets to stay in familiar surroundings and we hope feels like we will be returning at some point. He certainly likes Natasha a lot and gets her full attention while she is here, not to mention going on daily roadtrips to the beach and other spots of interest. Buddy also like Colean, his usual daycare manager, but Colean’s house, while also familiar to him at this point, involves other dogs. While Buddy has befriended some of those dogs, and he is generally well-behaved amongst them, we are sure that he is less comfortable in that he has to stay on his guard among other dogs, especially being one of the littler of the pack. Clean reports that he is very well-behaved while at her place and assuming that is not a line she tells all owners, we assume that means that BUddy is smart enough to know when to behave for his own benefit. Kim is forever shaking her head about the fact that none of the frustrating aspects of Buddy management seem to plague Colean the way they do her. Such is the manipulative capabilities of a little dog who knows how to manage his owners to his own advantage.
Buddy has taken to rarely eating his meals as Kim makes and serves them to him. This is food that she lovingly prepares for him and its more and more like human food rather than dog food, but he still tends to turn up his nose at it nonetheless. He has decided that he prefers to eat whatever I have on my plate, again, not such an unusual dog/owner manipulation. He will take hand feeding of the exact same food that is in his dish and gobble it up. We are now certain that we have spoiled him to the max, but we still accomodate his quirks. We do tend to think that spending an extended amount of time with Natasha is good for him because she is a far stricter disciplinarian (not so strange for an Eastern European) than we are and Buddy does learn to tow the line. We have a saying about Buddy that he is the ultimate “Love the one you’re with” kind of guy who adapts to his current caretaker and, like I said, learns to behave properly to their standards so as not to jeopardize his situation.
Buddy is a house dog, which is understandable given his size. he is just the right size to get snatched up by a coyote as a quick meal and whether that is his reason for preferring to stay indoors or its just a preference, he does not even really like going for walks. He gets his exercise running around in the house and while he will go outside and sit with us, he tends to stay pretty close as though he knows that its in his best interest to do so. Both Cecil and Betty were happy to wander of on their own and while I think they were also vulnerable to coyote attacks, neither seemed as conscious of that as Buddy is. He is never more than ten feet from our feet when we are outside, whether on the leash or off.
Like most pet owners, we have become extremely attached to Buddy, with all his quirks and flaws. He is such an animated little Gubins that he bring us both joy in quite different ways. He is Kim’s baby who lounges on her lap, belly up, while we watch TV. He coos like a cat while she rubs his tummy and seems happy to stay in that position as long as he is allowed…or until I choose to move a muscle, at which time he has to jump up and run over to me to remind me with a few yaps that I am not allowed to move or think of leaving the room, even to go to the bathroom. Buddy likes to be the room proctor and feels he is responsible for keeping everyone in their place…literally. He exhibits this same behavior not just on Kim and me, but on any guests who are staying with us. Once he gets used to their presence, he wants them to stay put and he is not ashamed to let everyone in the room know that.
While Buddy likes a good belly rub from me as well, my primary role in his pantheon is his source of play. Whether on the sofa or in bed, Buddy always wants to play with me. He really seems to need the play fighting more than any other dog we have had. Granted he is only two and a half, which makes him more puppy-like than not, but he has a desperate need to play catch and to wrestle with me for hours on end. I have come to like it almost as much as Buddy does and it warms my heart to see how concerned he is ab out my whereabouts. If I go out to my truck to go run an errand, he will pine away at the door for me and welcome me when I return. I know that is not unlike what other dogs do with their owners, but Buddy is the first dog we have had who has been as overt about his need for my presence so it is a relatively new feeling for me to have this unconditional dog love.
I reserve the term Gubins for my dearest affections. I called each of my two older children when they were toddlers, Gubins. My youngest son was so invested in the name Gubins that he and I actually wrote a book called Me and Gubins about our daily exploits. We would write bits and pieces here and there and then I would read them back to Thomas while he was in bed, trying to get to sleep. It was comforting to him. It was endearing to me. So now, Buddy is Gubins in our household (Kim has adopted my nickname for him as well). We will miss our Gubins while we are gone, like we always do. Natasha will send pictures and Kim and I will often say to one another that we miss the little rascal. Again, I may only be the latest person on the pet-loving train, but I am pleased to have Gubins to come home to.