“The dog ate my homework mom. He really, really did.”
I just don’t get this little guy. He is definitely at the angst-ridden, gangly-awkward teenage “years” but sometimes even that isn’t adequate to explain his behavior. Last week, he munched on the Spelling and Reading Comprehension books as they sat in the travel bag. Granted, they were at a perfect level to take a swipe at. But seriously. I just don’t get the fascination. Unless…unless…he is desperately trying to improve his SAT scores. Now that makes me happy, and I’ll give him a pass.
I realize I have been remiss and have not introduced this gorgeous young thing. I, quite honestly, haven’t wanted to jinx him, or us. We all here still carry the specter, or should I say spirit of our missing Max. Maybe to me it’s the specter of our missing buddy, as I will forever feel responsible for losing my daughter’s puppy. The one she asked for every day faithfully for a year. That one. So I wanted to just slide this new addition in. To subtly weave him into the fabric of our tapestry, not calling attention to him in any way. Just letting him in and not alerting the Universe to his arrival. As if, in this way, I might gild him with a cloak of invincibility, protect him forever from the disasters of life. As if, by sheer will, I could then hold at bay any and all forces that might threaten to rend him from our tapestry.
He was born on August 15, 2013 to the mother of our missing Max. His father is an English Springer Spaniel sire named Max who lives in Pierre, SD and who hailed originally from the United Kingdom. The coincidence of the name did not go unnoticed.
In Irish mythology, Angus (spelled Oengus in Old Irish, or Aengus in Middle and Modern Irish) is probably a god of love, youth and poetic inspiration. There were many Aenguses who figured prominently in both historical and legendary Ireland and Scotland. High Kings in the 15th, 5th and 4th centuries BCE no less. An Irish saint from the 8th century.
There is a legend that Aengus was able to repair broken bodies and return life to them.
I do know this. Our sweet Angus has begun to repair our broken hearts. He is a little love with a gigantic heart. And, as I’m finding out, a penchant for reading and spelling! Now if I could just find a way to direct him away from chewing the books and perhaps peruse the pictures instead.
A girl can dream, can’t she?