Chuckles, Snorts and Guffaws

I spent my July 4th driving 400 miles through long stretches of corn fields; Gavin's chin resting on my shoulder or his whole body draped over the console, head weighing heavy on my right arm. When the music was playing loudly, I could feel his sing song snorts against my skin or catch a glimpse of him raising his head to the heavenly sun and soft breeze coming in the sunroof; just enough for me to not fret about a rock hitting him in the eye then relax like Finn always did during road trips. I had plans to attend a cookout at my dad's house as soon as I got into town and I was hem hawing about bringing Gavin with me. Seriously, everyone loves Gavin and he returns the fondness by making them laugh when he rubs his penis on anything he can or squishes into any new friend's shin for a chest massage. But, the torrential downpours that sporadically graced my hometown with drenched grass meant I might be sitting alone in the garage with Lil' Big Head or giving him "leave it" practice way beyond his skill level with my dad's three giant cats. I deduce that being around felines would not be fun for me by the intensity Gavin scales trees and yips when he glimpses a fluffy squirrel tail. So, I left him with my mom and Jim.

While I relaxed with my nephew on the bench seat dangling from two trees; Isaac's legs now long enough to share the work of pushing us into the air, Gavin laid on the porch on the other side of town. My mom just gushes over how easily and quietly he settles himself.  Finn was this giant presence that you felt just by walking into the room but Gavin tries so hard to blend in. He is sometimes so quiet, I look for him at home and he's just sitting there, staring at me. I worry less these days about him eating my shoes and blankets. Lil' Big Head was enjoying the summer breeze with his grandparents when the sight of a giant, white, statuesque dog proved more exciting than Gavin could bear. He elatedly jumped towards their neighbor dog, Casper and knocked the screen out of it's frame with his rock-hard watermelon head. Fortunately, my mom is very handy and forgiving.

As Isaac and I pushed our feet into the ground, flying higher and higher; he asked me if I still miss Finn. And, with glassy eyes, I told him I did miss Finn very much. But, his six-year old curiosity continued; he asked me if I still love Finn. Another "yes" as I caught my sister trying to look away from what she knew was going to start flowing down my cheeks. Then, with a searching and intent look on Isaac's face, he asked me "But, do you love Gavin?" I couldn't fight my emotions any longer and simply nodded my head as I squeezed his shoulders and gave him a big kiss on the forehead. As an adult, I am starting to understand how it is possible to do both; love Gavin and still miss Finn. I can only imagine how difficult it is for a child, who never loved my Lug's slobbery kisses, to grasp.

And, Isaac and I did with Gavin what we always did with Finn; walked our favorite dog and did yoga while two soulful eyes watched us. Well, I do yoga and any time there is a balancing pose on one leg; Isaac grabs onto me for support as I wobble and hope I do not crash on top of the little guy. Gavin, Isaac and I were enjoying a much faster walk than we used to relish with Finn when we ran into two Yorkies. Gavin shimmied back and forth as he pounced then backed away from the tiny dogs. As he got tangled in the leash, he realized how cool the guy at the other end of his fellow terriers must be as he sprung into the air, repeatedly, like a pogo stick. Isaac burst out laughing so hard that he was gripping his stomach and bending over; I will never forget his adorable giggles over Gavin pretending not to hear me say "settle" as he sprang into the air, over and over again. And, when Gavin and I spent the afternoon with my grandmother; she chuckled with the same beautiful sincerity at sleeping Lil' Big Head. His noggin' propped up on a statue and his butt was hanging off the brick garden fence, despite the huge yard filled with soft grass. I often joke that Gavin could nap on top of sandpaper covering coal.

After my babysitting duties for Isaac had concluded; we had a surprise party for my stepfather, Jim, to honor and cheer him on for a speedy recovery from the tumor recently removed from his brain. And, despite the swiftness that their daily life has changed; I am in awe of both him and my mom's spirit and love continuing to shine. Not to steal Jim's spotlight, but Gavin was quite showstopper at the celebration. As we stood in line for food, Jim's co-workers and my extended family kept circling back to pet Gavin, one visit was not enough for anyone.

When my sister's boyfriend found out Gavin was coming to the party, he asked if their dog Loki could join. If you ever met Loki; you would know why my nose is still burning from the soda that squirted from my nostrils at the mention of Loki in a party house with 40+ people. Every time Beth sends me a picture of Loki with the garden fence wrapped around his neck or a snapshot of what was once her phone; I remind her how terrible Finn was as a puppy. Beth laughs and shakes her head in disbelief arguing with me that Finn was the best dog in the world. I concur. But, as a puppy, Finn was hell on wheels; I did not sit down the first three years of his life. Joe's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he asked Beth, "You don't remember Finn getting stuck behind the credenza chasing the cat? What about the time Finn annihilated  all of Titus's (their other dog) toys within seconds of getting to the house and then he charged upstairs and proceeded to eat a hole in the mattress? Did you forget when he climbed the ladder to our pool and jumped in on top of liner, at Christmas?" No matter how mischievous Finn was a puppy, I always loved him and was able to chuckle when he pulled his pranks, even when it meant replacing furniture. It makes me so happy to see Beth and Joe do the same; even when all 120 pounds of Loki came barreling at me, happily throwing me against the wall and tattooing my leg with black and blue marks after he shoved his slobbery snout up my dress.

Gavin and I were hanging out at Kate's last weekend and while the three pups played; she and I relaxed on

her new outdoor couch, nestled in a spot that you can feel the sun but be protected from rain if you needed it. I threatened her that I might just move back in because I dream of sitting on a porch with a cup of coffee early in the morning surrounded by a menagerie of rescued dogs. I am sure Gavin has the same dream every single night. Kate told me she was thinking of Finn when she was wrestling the pieces and parts during assembly and how much she knew he would have loved lounging out there. She almost stopped herself because she said she did not want to seem dark and while a couple tears welled up in my eyes, it was because I was touched, not sad. It gives me so much joy to hear Isaac, Kate and anyone else who has shared time with Finn talk about him. My friend Jenny constantly asks me how Finn is doing then guiltily shushes herself. Not sure how I missed that Gavin's name rhymes with Finn, completely unintentional but hearing a dear friend say my Lug's name out loud is like hearing my own.

There was a time a few months ago that I worried so much that I would forget Finn and I have come to realize that is impossible. Finn is always a part of me and I am forever changed because of my big, amazing Lug. Missing him and thinking about him does not make me love Gavin any less and somehow, someway my heart is strong enough to do both. I watch my mom and Jim as they navigate their new life with a (hopefully) temporary wheelchair and the appreciation they share for one another is so beautiful. Love personified. Or dogified, whichever you prefer; I am a big fan of both.