The Stray Dog Philosophy

Years ago, when I was living with my grandmother, a big old dog showed up in our side yard.  It was October and the weatherman had forecast a hard frost for that evening.  Being the crackerjack gardener I am (kidding), I was putting plastic bags over the plants I had outside that I had not yet transplanted into pots to move indoors for the winter.  Feeling like I was being watched, I turned and was literally nose to nose with a dog that was quite obviously part German shepherd.  Now I love dogs, all animals for that matter.  But this dog was a stranger to me.  Even though I was startled by presence, I remained calm and offered my hand to see what he would do.  Fortunately, he was a friendly dog.  Very friendly.  And I was smitten.  There was however one small problem in the form of a spunky old lady who wasn't exactly a dog fan. They were okay of they lived with someone else.  And she had already given in to having two indoor/outdoor cats.

I went to work the next day looking for a home for this wonderful dog.  There were no immediate takers.  My mother's friend brought by a huge bag of dog food for him that morning after I called her for help finding him a home.  I went about my daily life as if I had a dog.  I fed him each morning.  He had a comfortable bed in the barn.  When I would feed the horses, he would stand outside each stall and wait for me.  We played together and we cuddled each night on a pile of hay before I retired for the evening myself.  Each morning, he was waiting for me on the front porch.  But I never gave him a name.  Nothing I could think of seemed to fit him.  Almost two weeks passed and I returned home from work to find my new friend had moved on.  It was as if he had needed a place to rest for a little while before continuing on his way-wherever that was.

I think M may be employing the "no name no stay" philosophy to C.  He plays with C.   Laughs at him. Interacts with him which is wonderful to see.  He excitedly runs to his room when C wakes up and exclaims, "Baby wake up!!"  When we are trying to get C to sleep, he whispers not so quietly, "Baby seeping".  He peeks through the slats in the crib to play peek-a-boo with him.  He points out when he makes "wotta noise".  He stands at the side of the tub when C gets a bath and giggles uncontrollably at C's attempts to sit up by himself.  He will even share the occasional toy with him.  He cries when C can't be consoled.  He performs to make C laugh.  He watches Elmo with him.  He reluctantly let's C sit in the Bumbo chair even though it belongs to the baby.  He will lay down next to him on our bed or on a blanket on the floor.  He has tried to feed him Cheerios.  He has even apologized to him after a well deserved time out received form head-butting his baby brother.

He has done all of these things.  But he refuses to call him by name.  M is good with names.  He knows Mommy, Daddy, Nanny and Pop-pop (and that they go together), AJ, Aunt Mindy, Uncle Pat, Heidi, the name of my former boss, Logan, Aunt Robin, Lisa, Joy, Emily and Baby Ellie (pronounced Elwee).  But he will not call C anything but Baby.  When I correct him and tell him the baby's name, he laughs at me.  When I ask him "who is the baby?", he points to him and says "Baby!"I am trying hard to use C's name more throughout the day hoping it will catch on but I have to wonder if this refusal to put a name to the baby isn't a subconscious way of keeping detached?  Maybe if he doesn't use C's name, he will go away?  As with stray animals, if you feed them and name them, they are yours forever.  Since M has no control over us feeding C, maybe he is keeping from getting attached by not using his name.  Or, maybe he just hasn't made the connection enough because Mommy is not using C's name enough day in and day out, instead calling him "the baby".  It is, after all, only a theory.