Maybe everyone has an Alvin in his or her life. Maybe you’re the Alvin in someone else’s life. Maybe I am.
My current Alvin is a 5-pound energetic, inquisitive ball of fur.
Alvin is a reference I started using to describe the behavior of one of my Pomeranians. You see, ever since leaving employment outside my home about a year and a half ago I spend most of my days in the company of Tybalt and Zorro.
Most weekdays my canine companions stay with me upstairs from the time Rebecca and I have breakfast together about 7 a.m. until the time she arrives home from work, usually about 5 p.m. or so. Generally I take them downstairs to take them out about noon and sometimes again just before Rebecca comes home.
After taking them out I have them follow me back upstairs. At least I try to have them follow me.
Invariably, as we head toward the stairs, Alvin makes an appearance. Sometime after we leave the mudroom, pass through the kitchen and enter the foyer, our group dynamic changes. I find myself alone with Tybalt in the foyer. Ever-inquisitive and unabashedly independent, Zorro regularly takes detours. What often follows is me yelling, “Zorrrrrrrrrrooooo!”
After doing this on multiple occasions, I realized I was — in essence — Dave from Alvin and the Chipmunks. The way I yelled for Zorro was like Dave’s oft-spouted exclamation, “Alviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnn!”
Zorro is my Alvin.
While Tybalt is generally attentive and easy-going, Zorro is inattentive and easily-distracted. He meanders, wanders and investigates. And while there is nothing wrong with that in general, it becomes a problem when there is a certain goal we’re supposed to be accomplishing.
Truth is I love the fact that Zorro is so inquisitive. He’s probably the most inquisitive Pomeranian we’ve had. But his curiosity tends to get the best of him at the wrong times. Then he ends up straying, and he’s like a child: it’s not good when he’s loud and ever-present, but it’s worse when you don’t hear or see him.
“Zorrrrrrrrrrooooo!” has become a regular exclamation in our home, but we’ve worked on decreasing its prevalence. Still, it made me think we probably all have Alvins in our lives, friends or loved ones who tend to stray or lose focus to the point that we have to reign them back in.
OK. I know I can be an Alvin sometimes. My attention has been known to stray. I read once about a dog that strayed too far from home and got lost then ended up hundreds of miles away, but I can’t remember where this was, but it might have been out east somewhere. They have Dunkin’ Donuts stores out east. Coffee is great with doughnuts. Wait. What were we talking about?
Maybe Zorro is just an extreme example of a characteristic that’s not so unusual. Maybe — hey, where did Zorro go? He was just here.