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.
Phyllis
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, Phyllis 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.
