Lessons from a Coyote

It was a cold, rainy, February afternoon, and I was in a hurry. In those days I juggled the work of raising two young primary school age children, with a demanding career in the oil and gas industry, while I attended college 2-4 nights a week trying to finish a bachlor's degree in business administration and economics.

I had stopped into my local grocery to pick up something for the family to have for dinner while I was at class that evening (my husband would pick the children up from the daycare on his way home from work). My plan was to drop dinner off at home, grab my books and dart back out the door to class. As I came running back out of the store in the freezing rain, I almost tripped over a huddled ball of wet, shivering fur that was cowering in between my car and the one next to it in the lot. Looking closer, I found a terrified pup, only weeks old, too exhuasted and too frightened to run or hide. Thinking it had fallen out of a nearby car, I scooped it up and walked back to the entrance to the store and asked an employee to make an announcement in the store. I waited... but no one appeared to claim the precious baby that shivered in my arms -- and my time was running out. As the clock ticked down, I made a decision. I took the puppy, put it in my car, and drove it home. I gave it some water and a warm blanket, left a note for the family:

"THERE'S A PUPPY IN THE SHOWER.

DON'T GET ATTACHED.

WE'RE NOT KEEPING IT."

Oh sure. The puppy stayed with us for 17 years. We named her Smoky. It didn't take very long to figure out why no one ever came to claim Smoky -- she didn't fall out of a car... she likely was lost from or kicked out of her den. You see Smoky was mostly, if not entirely, coyote. However she came to be in that parking lot that day, she was the finest dog any family could have ever wanted.

So, what has any of that got to do with anything you are asking yourself...

Well, Smoky loved to go for walks. Loved it. All you had to do was say, "walk," and the coyote would be up and dragging you to the door to get the leash. You had better have your clothes and shoes on and be ready to go before you said the magic word. We got to the point where we would spell the word: W-A-L-K, but of course, that didn't save us for long, because coyotes are very smart. Smoky learned to spell 'walk' in very short order.

The problem was that, once you had her on the leash and out the door, she would tear your arm off. The coyote never learned "heel." She was smart enough to learn to spell, but not smart enough to learn anything at all about walking etiquette. She would pull and tug and drag you the entire time. It didn't matter if you walked 5 minutes or 5 miles. Walking with the coyote was done at coyote speed... unless you dropped the leash. Drop the leash, and the oddest thing happened. The instant that you let go of the leash, she would stop pulling and pick it up in her mouth and carry it and walk quietly and contentedly along at your side... Crazy animal!

I think there are times when that is the way it goes with us. I pull and yank and fuss and tug and carry on. Coyote crazy. Probably, there are D/s relationships where the response would be to take some kind of fairly high end, proactive approach to moving that into line. He can do that, and has done that, but too, sometimes He simply "drops the leash." We've been at this long enough that He knows that I know what the expectations are -- knows that I will figure it out eventually. Too, He loves me; wants what is best for me. The reality is that He could knock me into line without considering the "whys and wherefores" of what's going on around all the fussing and tugging. Could. That He doesn't speaks to who He is; who We are.

I've gotten weary, finally, of carrying the leash. I'm ready to hand it back. I'm glad to be to that place. It feels good. I don't know what drives the craziness when I get into it. I'm just glad to find myself on the other side of it. Even more, I am grateful for the One who walks with me even if I do tug and pull...

swan