It's a long time in canine years since he was young. As a puppy he was energetic, inquisitive, loving adventure and people, prepared to leap straight into the arms of anyone who would give him attention. And when he was young and perky and brightly appealing there was no lack of attention from people, including strangers who we would come across in the ordinary course of a day, out and about with him. His diminutive size and sweet appearance appealed enormously even to people who had no particular love of dogs. And still does.

Even back then, though, I had to patiently extend an effort to teach him not to fear heights or to leap. If I could get him to momentarily forget his extraordinary (for a dog, I would imagine) sense of caution by throwing a toy onto a heightened surface, in his eagerness to take possession of the toy he would automatically make the required leap. On his own, without trickery to disarm his fear, he would never respond just by voiced invitation. Eventually he learned that he was indeed able to jump about without dire consequences, and he ended up leaping to heights that surprised me.

In the last few years his sense of caution and fear that appears to be inborn has returned, however. A few years back he had a nasty tumble down a set of stairs, and ever since then he has been suspicious of stairs. He still mounted them, but over time more and more reluctantly, and now he won't at all approach stairs with the intention of ascending them. When we go upstairs to bed he has to be carried up with us. He will still descend, but not an entire indoor flight of stairs, only those leading from the deck to the garden and then only in stable conditions.

Now, we cater to his whims and wishes to make him comfortable, to please his notions of achieving some goal. In this summer weather our little sun-loving dog likes to venture out into the outdoors to listen to the natural sounds all around, observing the life of the creatures that inhabit our little microsystem. But that means ushering him to the backyard after breakfast and as soon as he becomes too hot, hauling him back up. And installing him in his second-most favourite spot, on the glider, sitting on the deck, its cushions enveloping and comforting him.

We placed before the glider an ottoman to reduce its height and give him confidence in leaping down off the glider when he's prepared to return to the house, since he's easily able to open the screen of the sliding doors to emit himself. But I watched once, last week, as he leaped from the ottoman and still wasn't able to secure his four little paws on the deck, tumbling over onto his side before he could scramble back to place himself four-square on the solid floor. Since then he's been averse to jumping down on his own and will stand on the ottoman, appealing for help.

Button had never been so timid. She would just charge ahead to explore any situation that appealed to her, even when she was much older than Riley's now-14-years. But, personalities are all different, and her character was quite unlike his.