He’d been neglected, mistreated, ignored, and allowed to fall apart. Somehow, he was resilient, as if he knew that the universe wound be bringing me to him soon. For my part, a personal loss left me empty and needing something to love that wanted nothing more from me than unconditional love in return. I knew I wanted an older dog who needed a home, preferably with an under-bite. A snorer would be nothing more than a much wanted plus. And, there he was, looking up at me, wondering where I’d been his whole life. I was wondering the same thing.
In the year and a half since that September day, the little guy blossomed. He went from silently cowering just out of the room to joyfully and noisily skittering around the room, especially the kitchen. The first night I made dinner when he was with me in his forever home, he stayed outside of the kitchen, his eyes looking at me as if he did not know what to think or do but he wasn’t taking them off me, in case it was all just a dream. The last night I made dinner when he was with me in his forever home, he hung out only a few feet away, watching me dance around to Taylor Swift’s “Mine,” which I always sang to him. His sister, my shih tzu, begged shamelessly, but Quasi was smarter. He just waited until I set something down in front of him. As a result, he got the better of the table scraps during the six months I was blessed with two babies.
Quasi feared small children, and barked at my housemate’s young son. We spent a good number of hours last spring trying to convince Quasi that the gentle little boy wouldn’t hurt him, but with no luck. One night in May, a friend of mine was on his way to visit for a couple of days. I was sound asleep, a nightlight on so my friend could see his way around when he arrived. My friend was never a quiet person, and I woke up enough to see him come in my room. Quasi, who barked if a child got within ten yards of me, took one look at the 6’2” All American standing in my room, snorted, and went right back to sleep. I'm thankful it wasn't a robber or a rapist waltzing into my room, because my little Griff would have been no help. The next morning, he got up on the bed with my friend, curled up next to him, and the two of them tried very hard to convince me that noon was way too early to be awake.
He loved, like all Griffs, to lay in the sun and soak up rays. He spent last summer with me at my parents’ house, taking full advantage of their front porch. When he decided he was ready to go in the house, he did that classic Griff head back yoddle, barking at my father and then looking right at the house. My parents were wrapped around his little paws. My brothers, neither of whom cared for indoor dogs, took turns carrying him around, telling him what a great dog he was. My younger brother’s catch phrase was “Mr. Modo, do I find you well?” before picking my baby up and carrying him off. My brother’s girlfriend picked him up and I didn’t get him back until she left. If Quasi saw Auntie, his entire butt began doing the happy wiggle.
My youngest brother is a theater major, and during the summer, all shows are presented outside. We always brought Quasi with us, as we sat on the grass. He loved it-warm grass, Pap (my dad) feeding him homemade popcorn, my other brother, his girlfriend, Quasi’s Buela (my mom) and I taking turns petting him. During “Arabian Nights,” Quasi realized it was his Uncle up on stage making all the noise (Quasi HATED yelling…I suspect it had something to do with his previous owners) and so Quasi decided to tell him about it, doing the Griff yodel in the middle of the performance. Later, my brother told me “I NEARLY BROKE CHARACTER TO LAUGH!”
It was impossible not to love my little man. Most of the time, he was a serene snoozer and expert cuddler. I took him to middle school sporting events with me, and he let all of my students hold him, pet him, tell him "he's so ugly he's cute!" and kiss his adorable self. Occasionally, he let his inner puppy out and caused all to smile, laugh, and tell me how lucky I was to have been adopted by such a wonderful dog.
Believe me, I already knew.
