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THINK
ABOUT THOSE
BOUNDARIES IN YOUR HEAD
Journal of
Healing – July 5, 2006
By Mary
Koch
People just can’t seem to figure out boundaries.
Yes, it’s me again. Sadie, the people dog. It’s so hot, I’m
devoting my time to thinking instead of running around. The boss lady
claims I’m being lazy. I’m not. I’m working very hard. Mentally.
Like, I’ve been thinking about boundaries. For us dogs,
boundaries are simple. Marking our individual property lines comes
naturally to us, and we mostly respect each other’s boundaries. That
doesn’t mean we can’t cross them. It means when some other dog is on
my property, he recognizes I’m the boss. Usually.
*
* *
EVERY ONCE in a while some visitor will forget the
protocol. Just last week during a family gathering, a young fellow –
new to the family – shows up. He wants to play, of course. Those
puppyish games used to be entertaining, but now I’m of a certain age.
I prefer to spend my time in more cerebral activity.
So he’s running around, oohing and aahing at every bush. It
kind of amuses me, watching this naïve pup discover my world. Amuses me
until he finds my bone. True, I’d lost interest in the bone days
earlier, having given it a thorough gnawing. The flavor was pretty much
sucked out.
Still, my property rights are clear. I curl my lip to remind him,
but he’s oblivious. Preemptive action is called for. Shock and awe.
He’s such a little guy,
I flatten him with a mere growl and a shove. He’s yelping bloody
murder, and the boss lady hauls me off him before I have time to use
full force.
Does he get the message!
The whole rest of the visit he lets out a pitiful whine every time I get
within 10 feet. That’s his way, I guess, of letting me know his
boundary.
Human boundaries are more complicated. It seems to me, a lot of
their boundaries are in their heads. They set boundaries for themselves
or let other people set boundaries for them, and a whole lot of those
boundaries just don’t need to be there.
*
* *
THE BOSS lady, for example, tries to impose all kinds of
boundaries on me. But then there’s The Boss. He can’t walk or talk
like most other people, but he doesn’t let those boundaries stop him
from enjoying life. So I follow his lead. Why submit to artificial
boundaries?
I’ve tried to explain that to the boss lady, but she doesn’t
speak my language. So I use a different tactic. I just kinda wear her
down.
She builds a fence; I find
a way around it. She calls; I come – eventually, when I’m ready. No
matter how long it takes me to come, she’ll give me a doggie biscuit.
She’s convinced if she rewards me for “good” behavior, even when
it’s delayed, I’ll be good. And I will be. When I want.
The boss lady’s weird boundaries get her into more trouble than
they keep me out of. Like the day we walk to the post office and she
ties me up outside. The sign on the post office door says “no dogs.”
Talk about silly boundaries.
While she’s inside getting the mail, the automatic sprinklers
turn on. When she comes out, she finds she’s on one side of a wall of
water, and I’m on the other. Won’t do her any good to call “Come,
Sadie.” She’s the one who tied me up. I give her a look that says,
“So now what’s your plan?”
She whines, sounding something like that little dog, and then she
gets wet. Maybe one of these days, she’ll get boundaries figured out.
©
Mary Koch, Omak, Washington 2006
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