Linus the Peaceful

Like his namesake, Linus is a true pacifist. Linus Pauling won a Nobel Peace Prize for his work against above-ground nuclear testing. While our puppy won't be getting any such accolades for at least five or six years (after all, he must first learn SIT before NUCLEAR DISARMAMENT) he's showing some strong signs of being the most submissive dog of the litter.

Linus has taken to the leash quite well. He scratched at his collar a bit last night, but barely notices it today. I attached the leash to him for a bit to let him drag it around. This morning I can have him on leash and he'll meander very closely to me. When I stop, he comes to me and sits down at my feet. Odd behavior, but I praise him for it. He's alert to loud noises and unfortunately fears neighborhood cats. However, I can see that his area of distraction is quite small at the moment. Passing cars mean little to him. A dog more than 15 yards away doesn't exist. His world is truly minute, and we're trying to make sure that we have a central part in his focus.

He woke up several times to whine last night. We expected that. However, poor Megan sleeps closer to him so she took him out a few times. I woke up at one point -- around 2 a.m. I think -- and she told me that she hadn't had any sleep yet. I empathized briefly and went back to dreamland. To help make things fair, though, I woke up at 3:30 or so and took the dog out. Then I slept next to him on the floor so he'd feel a bit less lonely. That worked for a couple of hours. At 6:30 this morning we began the routine that we'll keep for the next three or four weeks.

First, I will take him out for a brief walk. Second, feed and water the guy. Third, play. Fourth, into the crate. Fifth... shoot. I forgot what's next. It's all written down in our handy guidebook, Mother Knows Best by Carol Lea Benjamin. It's from the '80s so it's a hoot and a holler.

But I was talking about his submissive nature, wasn't I. Linus appears to be quite comfortable on his back. I try to get on my back and let him play around as alpha for a bit. It's a behavior we noticed on his farm. His brother was constantly the top dog during roughhousing, and Linus was satisfied entertaining the notion. Right now Linus gives a super-wide berth to Trout. (Seldom is he far away enough, in her opinion.)

I can't help but wonder how that will change when his attention span develops to an area greater in size than our living room. But until then, we're capitalizing on his limited perceptions by making sure he knows that the center of the pack is us, and he has a very special place in it.

Trout is upset, and that may be a good thing. Today, something changed in her world. Today, we brought home a new golden retriever puppy, Linus Granholm [flickr].

Megan discovered Linus through a Craigslist ad. We talked to his parents via email and phone and then headed out to their farm for a visit. The mom, Lucy, and dad, Romeo, had a litter of 13 pups. All but Linus, his brother, and his sister (and maybe a couple more?) were either spoken for or adopted. They were born on February 20, so that puts him at 10.5 weeks old. He has big feet, a persistent patch of pitch on his face, and a devil-may-care attitude of where his toilet is. In short, he's a gem.

It's tough not to think about his predecessor, Remmy. She was a good dog with a good demeanor. She also had big paws and initially didn't care where to relieve herself. But she learned, and we learned with her. I missed out on her puppy years, but took over with reasonably good results at about her two- or three-year mark. I am excited to start training Linus how to be a good dog, too.


Until the training begins, we must observe. He is not done with whining, so we have to figure out how to deal with that. He has noticed Trout several times -- each time he sees her it seems that he is shocked for the first time -- and has barked at her out of either amusement or confusion. Trout, with her flat ears and penetrating, does not flinch.

Earlier this morning we bought a crate for Linus to sleep in. He's not used to confined spaces yet, but we're working on it. He likes to play, and I think he even likes to play with us. In fact, he played so much in the past couple of hours that he now naps under the stone table, with his muzzle wedged beneath the couch. This brief time of resting gives Trout the opportunity to observe the new arrival with us.