TheBanyanTree: Interacting

Monique monique.ybs at verizon.net
Wed Sep 28 20:33:57 PDT 2005


I watched my dog at the dog park one day last week. She loves the dog
park, where she can run free of a leash, go in whichever direction she
wants, do whatever she wants. And as I watched her, I saw her make the
same social gaffes I make. My dog is just like me. 
 
She wants to play with other dogs. She doesn't hesitate to walk up to
other dogs, to sniff them and see them and check them out thoroughly.
She doesn't care if they're half her size or ten times her size, or if
they're of the super small variety. (I'm not sure she trusts the super
small variety, but she does not hesitate to walk up to them for a good
sniff, sometimes knocking them over in the process because she does not
know her own size.)
 
But in playing, she has some deficiencies. She gets excited, she wants
to play, she wants to have fun, she likes other dogs. And then in the
excitement of starting a new game with a new friend, she does her scary
growl, she looks as if she might pounce on them instead of play with
them, and the other dogs aren't sure if she's serious, or if she's just
a dorky dog who doesn't know how to interact with others.
 
I fear it is the latter. Especially since when these things happen, and
the other dog(s) run or wander off, depending on how ferocious her growl
was, she turns to me and looks at me with an expression that so clearly
says, "What'd I do? I just wanted to play?" And still not understanding
completely, she looks happy. She has found dogs, and she has dogs to
play with . . . but why do they keep running off?
 
I watched her do this over and over again. Perhaps the other dogs were
just not interested. Several weeks ago she made friends with another
dog, and the two of them played and chased each other and wrestled until
they wore each other out, so I know it is possible. She is able to make
friends and sustain a relationship. 
 
But it certainly isn't easy. Like me, she is socially inept. We want to
play with others, but we're not sure how to go about it, how to
integrate into their groups, so we stand on the sidelines and wonder
what we're doing wrong. When we have an opportunity to go into a group
we stand back and we growl because we don't know the appropriate social
response.
 
>From experience I can safely say, that isn't it. It doesn't work for me,
and it doesn't work for dog. But it's the only way we know. Sometimes
she might get close to a group, but then if they all decide to go out
for lunch, or meet for drinks, she won't be invited because they're not
sure about her.  
 
I used to think, growing up, that it was because I was an ugly twisted
warped stupid creature, but since then I've seen many people much like
myself who can socialize just fine, and who are not ostracized. And I've
come to realize that no matter what I was led to believe, my appearance
does not send others running away to hide. This knowledge relieves me of
some of the pressure, but it does not change the fact that I'm lacking
some basic social skills. These learned skills were never learned by me,
and they were not learned by my dog. So we sit on the outside and wonder
what we've done wrong, because we don't know any other way. 
 
Sometimes we're better than at other times. I doubt if my dog has the
same insecurities I have, at least I certainly hope not, for that
wouldn't be fair to her, but there are times when I have to ask myself
what is wrong with me . . .  it's as if there's a chunk of me that's
missing, the piece that plays well with others, the piece that makes
people want to socialize with me, the piece that helps the social animal
I am keep balanced. So I am often unbalanced. On the edge. Looking
around the corner to see what's going on, and why aren't I included? 
 
My feeble attempts usually turn out to be just that . . . feeble
attempts. It's not that I don't want to be social, it's just that I
don't know how. So I'm uncomfortable. So that makes others around me
uncomfortable. And what fun is that? None at all. And believe me, there
is nothing like having a blank stare facing you to reaffirm that one's
mouth should just stay shut forever. When once I've put myself into this
corner, it's difficult to get back out. 
 
I don't know why my dog has the same problems. Even while I was laughing
at the totally perplexed look on her face I was hoping this wasn't
anything she had gotten from me, that my social insecurities hadn't
rubbed off on her. She's just a dog who wants to play with the other
dogs. We just don't know how sometimes.
 
Monique
 
 



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