Jilly the Coyote Dog

July 14th, 2008, a Monday

Each of us has our own personal style.  The way we not only like to handle things, but the way we somehow must handle things, the way we naturally respond to things.  I wonder if we are more influenced by genetics, family environment, personal preference, or force of habit.  Or maybe some of each.  For example, I am really curious about this subject, always interested in the differences and similarities between us, while some people don't care one bit about how they got to be how they are.  (I was going to say the vast majority of those people are of the male gender, but thought better of it.)

Take Jilly, the coyote dog.  She is just shy of 14 years old which makes her 98 years old in people age, so they say.  Looking at Jilly, I think they may be right.  Because she is mostly wild animal due to her coyote lineage, I would say she definitely falls into the category of having absolutely no choice as to the way she responds to things.  She is totally instinct driven.  Proceed at your own risk if you plan to take food away from her whether it be food she has already gotten her paws on or food she is stalking such as in a trash can.  Once she has claimed it, she will fight to the death to keep it, gnarling her lip to show her teeth and growling in a seriously threatening manner.  If that doesn't make you back off, she will go for your ankles and trap you in a corner until you literally climb up on the counter to save yourself.  The Dutchman and the Littlest Dutch Boy (her real owner but doesn't live at home anymore) say it has something to do with pack mentality and alpha males and so forth.  They are the only ones who can dominate her in that they share the alpha male role.  It is unclear to me as to whether a female can be the alpha male in our new liberated society but in this household, I promise you we are never going to know.  She can sense a storm coming hours before the rest of us.  She makes wild animal trilling noises that no domesticated dog has ever made.  I loved watching her after her surgery to repair a bum back leg.  She was all shaved on her tummy and bandaged up and medicated on pain pills.  She retreated to her special corner of the Dragonfly Room and there she stayed quietly for days on end until she healed herself.  She knew exactly how to do it and in her usual personal style, she committed to it and didn't waiver.  One day she decided she was done with the wooden stairs on the inside of the house and insisted on using the outside stairs and outside doors instead.  Not one time has she even thought about coming down those indoor stairs since that day, even when she knows there is food downstairs which is the most important thing in the world to a little scavenger like Jilly.  She took it very hard when her housemate of 12 years, our beloved Rusty, died earlier this year even though she would never admit how much he meant to her.  Her physical condition deteriorated and she has taken to endless pacing and panting.  The vet says there is no physical cause.  It seems to be the way she grieves.  She has become very hard of hearing, her sense of smell has diminshed and her back legs are no longer dependable.  It has been so hard to see her try to get along without her best resources but she is such a stubborn old broad, she just keeps on going making the best of what she has. 

Some of us go about things slowly and methodically, using reason and logic (think Dutch).  Others of us rely mainly on intuition and our ability to just "know" how to solve a problem or when the exact time to act may be (think teddy bear).  The Dutchman wants to talk about things later, put them off and maybe even hope they go away.  He is a creature of habit, loving his routine and rituals, taking great comfort in predictability.  As for me, the moment something interesting pops into my head, I want to discuss it and share it and move on to the next thing and most likely I will want to talk about that, too.  I don't like to know in advance what the day may bring and although I find comfort in family rituals, sometimes they make me feel stale and I long for an experience out of the usual routine.

When you think about it, this personal style we all have determines a lot of things.  Obviously it plays a part in career choices, personal relationships and habits.  Do we like to travel or stay home, are we interested in having children or do we like our freedom, does money mean a lot to us or are we just happy with a simple life, do we like to spend time with other people or do we prefer time alone, and does a rainstorm thrill us or make us fret over whether the roof may leak? 

I have a friend who has such a big heart that people assume she will one day put it to use as the kind of mother that we all want to have.  She is just at that age when you would expect she and her husband would start a family and everyone seems to be waiting for them to do it.  That then turns into people asking her if she is going to do it and when.  Everyone assumes, maybe including her, that the huge space she has inside reserved for love and warmth and compassion and kindness can only be put to best use with a child.  And I would imagine that one day a lucky child or two will grow up in the comfort and joy of her special space.  But in the meantime, we are all just so drawn to her.  Her personal style is taking care of everyone, arms wide open, always ready with a hug when you need it, and the coolest thing is she always knows when you need one, even sometimes before you do.   

Differences in our personal styles make the world go round.  Some are better at giving hugs and others at receving them.  If we could just accept that, it would be something to celebrate.  Not something we are always trying to change.  That's not to say that all of us don't have at least a few personal habits that really need changing.  But for the most part, shouldn't we be just a little more satisfied with who we are?  And who the other guy is, too?

GR