Home 
 
 About Us
 Link To Us
 FAQs
 
 For Dealers
 Buy FasTags
 Our Designs
 Special Values
 Trade Shows
 Product Info
 Assortments
 Project Sheets
 
 For Consumers
 Buy FasTags
 Games
 Pet Articles
 
 For the Press
 In Print
 Press Releases
 Press Kit
Search

For Consumers : Pet Articles Last Updated: Feb 28th, 2007 - 17:15:28


The Dharma of an Introverted Dog
By Nancy R. Fenn
Aug 12, 2006, 23:41

Email this article
 Printer friendly page
Animal All Bird Cat Dog Horse Pig Rabbit Reptile Small&Furry Breed Zip Code


One of our best kept secrets as introverts is that often our pets mean more to us than some of the people in our lives. Pets can be the perfect companion for an introvert and I don’t think we should apologize for this. Pets are quiet, like us. They enjoy curling up with us for a good read by the fire. They’re always enthusiastic and available for a walk in the park or a hike in the woods. And they can go for long periods of time without verbal communication!

Pets can be deeply meaningful as well. Phyllis explains how a chocolate Labrador retriever named Ygraine helped her through the worst time in her life. This is called dharma, because a dog’s dharma is to be a loving companion to a person.

Phylllis is an introverted classical pianist from Pittsburgh. In her later years, she has also become a coach and counselor. After the tragic death of her 21-year-old son, Phylllis was unable to bear the company of human beings and took great solace in Ygraine’s love and understanding. Ygraine is her Chocolate Lab.

Phyllis begins, “It is very hard to lose a child. To lose a child at the age of 21, they say, is the worst thing that can happen. That, among other words spoken to me over the course of my grieving, made it through the fog as “meant well” but words were of little use or comfort.

“Though I’m a coach and counselor, I speak in the first person, because it’s different for each grieving parent and a situation where you are inevitably alone. You walk under a different sun. I happened to be living alone at the time.

“The pain is so different from anything else, and so visceral, one of the things I had to deal with was terror at ever loving like that again in the face of loss. Yes, even at the ripe old age of 52. I didn’t want to ever care like that again. My willingness to connect with people was tenuous.

“My therapist helped me because he didn’t demand words. My sister helped me because she didn’t demand words and because we go way back. . . . I was between the living and the dead.

“And then Ygraine helped me.

“My surviving son gave me Ygraine. Chocolate Labs, as they say, are really people. They’re just the right size, and they are very one-person dogs. My son had her perfectly trained and actually offered me either of his Labs, Bailey or Milo. Bailey came first. When I would cry, Bailey would force her head into my lap, just push and push, and insinuate her way in. This didn’t work for me. It was “too much.” I then had to care about her, as much as I did about myself, because of her giving, and I couldn’t tolerate that at the time.

“Milo came second. She was the second dog in my son’s household, and acted like the second dog. She was shy and quiet and kind of puzzled about things. I really think she’s an introvert like me. She was used to Bailey doing the interpreting of “people language.” If you told her to “sit,” she would look over at Bailey to see what that meant. They thought she was ‘quirky,’ and preferred her less. Sometimes human introverts get the same reaction, I think!

“I immediately renamed her “Ygraine,” and let her stay with me. She was just “around”, in an unobtrusive sort of way. She needed to be tended to a little, just enough - - her food and water, daily walks, and letting her in and out. She moved with me. If I was working, she slept in her bed on the side of the office. When I went to bed, she went to bed. If I forgot her feeding time, she leapt up on the back of my chair and ‘told me.’ If I was staying up late, or all night, she would go on and go to bed. She kept decent life-rhythms. She knew how to be a dog, though I had momentarily forgotten how to be a person. That’s stabilizing.

“I’m an intellectual; I like to know what’s going on. I’d read a beautiful book called ‘A General Theory of Love,’ that talked about how we mammals (dogs, cats and people) operate on an open-loop feedback system. We cannot regulate our life forces alone; we need each other. It’s not good to live alone; in fact it’s quite detrimental to your health. This can be hard for an introvert at any time, but especially at a time like this. You need a mammal around to look into their sentient eyes and see life, and orient to it. That’s the scientific explanation.

“The personal explanation is that it was comforting to have a quiet, undemanding sentient presence in the house when I could not tolerate having a person around. I knew I could meet the rudimentary needs of an animal, though not the more complex needs of a person, while I licked my own wounds. Dogs don't care about words. She didn't ask me to comment upon my condition or to tell her how I was doing, or what it's like to lose a son, or even what I planned to do that day. We were together and in the moment. Neither of us had plans for the future.

“Ygraine is a huntress who is often attacked by her prey. One night she was crying in pain, suddenly, and I saw her groin was swollen and she couldn’t move. Some creature had bitten her. She weighs 65 lbs. and I couldn’t lift her. I pushed her over blankets and tried to pull her across the floor, but that didn’t work. It was 3 a.m. and she needed to get to the vet.

“Finally, in desperation, I looked into her eyes and told her, wordlessly, “Ygraine I want to help you and I cannot do this. You must get to the car so I can take care of you.” Silently she got up and got herself outside and up into the car. Even though it was excruciatingly painful, she didn’t even whimper. When we got to the vet’s she wouldn’t move, and when the man came out to lift her out of the car, she cried.

“She became “my” dog almost immediately and stuck by my side if we went for a walk, or if a repairman came in.

“Best of all, when I went to visit my son and brought her along, he told me how she had thrived and blossomed under my care, how she had come into her own and was a different dog.

“Your job, as a parent, is to keep your child alive. If nothing else, you should be able to keep your child alive. When they die, you have failed. This feeling is primordial and has nothing to do with intellect or explanation. Ygraine restored my faith in my ability to nurture life. She was faithful to dog dharma, as one of my clients told me, living her purpose of being a loving companion. And a more extroverted dog would have been just impossible. I loved Ygraine most of all because she was an introvert like me.


© Copyright by FasTags.com

Top of Page

Latest Headlines
About Us
FasTags® - The Essential ID Tags for Your Clinic, Store, or Boutique
Contact Us
Watch FasTags in Action
For Dealers
Thank you for joining us at SuperZoo 2007
FasTags 2007 Trade Shows
Posh Pets Wins $10,000 HH Backer Cash Bonanza With Entry Sponsored By FasTags®
For Consumers
Recalled Dog and Cat Food
Sugar Substitute Can Make Dogs Ill
Maxim's Day Out Game
For the Press
FasTags® Company Background
FasTags Press Kit Images
FasTags Christmas Images for the Press