Kicking the Dog, Didactic Parenting and Deepening the Practice

Yesterday at the beach, someone kicked our dog.  My daughter, her friend and I were all there when it happened.

Jake, along with 20 other dogs, was running around off leash at the beach.  He went over to the only two dogs on the beach that were on leashes, sniffed around and tried to engage them in play.  The women who were holding the dogs on leashes didn't appear too friendly so I sent Jake elsewhere.  Oh, but a dog knows what he wants.  A minute later, he was back by those "leashed-up" dogs.

I heard one of the women yell, "There's gonna be a fuckin' dog fight!"  I was looking at the same dogs she was looking at and I didn't see this storm brewing.  What I saw were dogs on leashes jumping around, wanting to play with Jake.  But, I walked back over, this time with the leash.

As I neared, one of the women said, "Your dog doesn't fuckin' know how to play" and kicked Jake away from her dog.  Not an overly aggressive kick, but a kick nevertheless, a kick where Jake actually caught air.  Fortunately, Jack didn't cry or yelp so I knew he was fine.

"I don't know about that.  Dogs play different when they are on and off leash.  I think it's hard for dogs on leashes when other dogs aren't on leashes."

"So, fuckin' leash your dog," she told me, as I was leashing Jake.

I looked at her, I looked into her eyes.  This woman was pissed off and she thought it was about my dog but I'm telling you, that's the tip of the iceberg.  You know what that's like, being with someone who is angry?  They don't have to say a word because it's in their eyes, in their posture, and in the vibration of the energy around them.  I have no idea what's going on for this woman but her anger is huge.  I held her gaze and I said calmly, "I am."

"Yeah, it fuckin' took you a half hour."

I kept looking at her, "Alright."

(A word about the f-bomb is called for at this point.  I've got friends who drop the f-bomb regularly.  Like, "Shit, you really fucked that up, Anna."  Really, what they are saying is, "Dear, you botched that one, eh?"   

These f-bombs on the beach didn't occur like that.  No, her f-bombs landed like, "You fuckin' stupid-ass dog owner, you don't do what I'm telling you to do and I'm going to fuck you and your dog up.")

Now this was one of those perfect teaching moments for parents like me, parents who like to turn everyday life situations into moral codes for their children to live by.

My 12-year-old daughter was furious!  "Mom, she kicked Jake!"

"Yeah, but Jake's okay."

"Mom!  It doesn't matter, she kicked Jake.  I had to walk away otherwise I would have told her off."

I didn't tell her this but I admired that and it cracked me up at the same time.  This woman was easily 5'9" and 200 pounds, wearing Timberlands, jeans and a sweatshirt.  She could have kicked my ass in two seconds if I were inclined to get into fights.

"Well," I said, "I wasn't going to take her hot potato."

"What are you talking about, Mom?"

"You saw how angry she was, right?  It didn't make sense.  She's got a hot potato, all that anger, and she was seeing if she could pass it on to me.  If I wanted to take some of her anger and get angry myself.  No thanks.  No thanks.  If she wants to give me $50, I'll take that.  Not her anger."

We talked about the dog-kicking, which is how we refer to the incident on the beach, for a while: me, my daughter and her friend.  Later that night, I told my best friend and my husband who was out of town.  And in all the tellings, I was pretty proud of myself, I didn't lose my cool and I artfully modeled to my daughter how to be an exemplary human being.

I took Jake on a walk today, in the woods, and told the two guys I met who were also walking their dogs about the dog-kicking.  "You know, it was a good reminder that people have very different norms around dogs," I told them.  And, I believe that.  Some people are very strict with their dogs, and expect the rest of us to be, too.

As I walked away from the second man I shared this with, my arrogance hit me full in the face. I did not react with anger.  I did not escalate the emotional charge of the situation.  And that is good.  However, I didn't consciously give this woman any love.  I was behaving well to resist her, not to connect with her.

I'm not pretending I'm Gandhi, here.  All I know is that I feel better, I'm happier, when I look around and see people as possible friends.   This woman never had a chance with me.

In yoga, we train ourselves to never arrive, to always deepen into the experience.  If we ever think we've arrived, mastered a pose, we know we're in trouble!  Because perfection is not the goal, practice is what we're after:  Practice makes practice.  

I see the next possible practice for me is to engage a person like that as if s/he were my good friend.  I would be non-reactive, like I was, and I would respect myself, as I did.  What I will add is an awareness that were we to meet in a dark alley with a rabid dog chasing us, she could save my life.