Monday Moment - Live Like Gus
I spent the last two evenings in the company of my sister’s family – and my niece’s small white Maltese. For a little guy – about 10 pounds or so – he’s got a fairly brawny name. He’s called Gus – or when he gets a little too curious or rambunctious – Augustus. No kidding!
Gus is a friendly little guy, maybe three or four years old, and seems to feel not just compelled to make the acquaintance of humans but entirely and totally welcomed. It just doesn’t occur to him that anyone might not find him adorable. If someone doesn’t give him attention – which doesn’t happen all that often because he is so darned cute – he’s not the least bit shy about demanding it.
Gus bounces from lap to lap, sniffing an ear or a nose, inviting somebody to wrestle or toss his pull toy away from him, or – if you let him – giving kisses and toothy tugs on human fingers. He has particular affinity for toes. You haven’t been fully initiated into the life of this little guy until he kisses your toes. Lucky for Gus, he landed a family in Florida so bare toes are plentiful and available at least in the summer.
The thing about Gus is that he lets you know – without equivocation – that he is having the very best day of his life – every single moment. As I watched Gus make his rounds, saying hello to every member of the family - multiple times – I wondered what would the world be like if we all had his brand of enthusiasm. Wouldn’t that be something?
If I felt sure that everyone I met would greet me with Gus-like joyous abandon, how much more open and curious might I be toward folks? If I treated people – as Gus does – like there is no place on the planet I’d rather be than in their company, would they be just as eager for mine? I might not kiss their toes, but then again I don’t believe I’d require them to rub my ears or scratch my butt. Hold me on their laps – maybe.
As I go through the next week – and hopefully beyond – I hope I’ll remember Gus and his could-life-get-any-better-than-this attitude. And I hope I’ll spread Gus’ way of approaching the world around as I bounce through my days.
I hope you will too! Toe-kissing? Optional.
Gus is a friendly little guy, maybe three or four years old, and seems to feel not just compelled to make the acquaintance of humans but entirely and totally welcomed. It just doesn’t occur to him that anyone might not find him adorable. If someone doesn’t give him attention – which doesn’t happen all that often because he is so darned cute – he’s not the least bit shy about demanding it.
Gus bounces from lap to lap, sniffing an ear or a nose, inviting somebody to wrestle or toss his pull toy away from him, or – if you let him – giving kisses and toothy tugs on human fingers. He has particular affinity for toes. You haven’t been fully initiated into the life of this little guy until he kisses your toes. Lucky for Gus, he landed a family in Florida so bare toes are plentiful and available at least in the summer.
The thing about Gus is that he lets you know – without equivocation – that he is having the very best day of his life – every single moment. As I watched Gus make his rounds, saying hello to every member of the family - multiple times – I wondered what would the world be like if we all had his brand of enthusiasm. Wouldn’t that be something?
If I felt sure that everyone I met would greet me with Gus-like joyous abandon, how much more open and curious might I be toward folks? If I treated people – as Gus does – like there is no place on the planet I’d rather be than in their company, would they be just as eager for mine? I might not kiss their toes, but then again I don’t believe I’d require them to rub my ears or scratch my butt. Hold me on their laps – maybe.
As I go through the next week – and hopefully beyond – I hope I’ll remember Gus and his could-life-get-any-better-than-this attitude. And I hope I’ll spread Gus’ way of approaching the world around as I bounce through my days.
I hope you will too! Toe-kissing? Optional.
Comments
Post a Comment