TheBanyanTree: Prairie Dog Friends

[Pam Lawley]

Once again you've allowed me to take those trivial, mundane thoughts
that cross my mind, and stop.  And think about them in ways I never
have before!   Reading your posts is never disappointing!!

On 7/11/12, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com> wrote:
> *Now at www.mcolver.wordpress.com*
>
> Ever have a friend who disappears for years at a time? And you don’t know
> if they’ve been 1) eaten by bears, 2) ran afoul of the law, 3) decided to
> avoid you, or 4) are so wrapped in living their life that they just haven’t
> gotten back to you?
>
> I have several! At least three! Occasionally one will pop up, like a
> prairie dog, sticking their nose out for the briefest nanosecond (I’m not
> sure how big a nanosecond is, but it sounds small), and then they’ll duck
> back under, as if they think you won’t notice they were even there. And
> when that happens, I have to say, “what the hell?”
>
> There’s a lovely woman in the Midwest who once made the effort to travel to
> California to be in my wedding. IN the wedding. And I only had one person
> in my wedding, so it was sort of a big deal. That would be my California
> wedding, not my Oregon wedding, obviously – those women still like me, but
> it’s only been five years. Then she faded away . . . of course, the Stew
> years saw a lot of people fading away, whether my fault or theirs, but it
> happened. The whole mental thing is, so I hear, highly contagious. But
> every so often, she’ll pop up, my own personal prairie dog, and send me an
> email telling me all about her life and what she’s been up to and promising
> to keep in touch.
>
> And so I, stupidly, respond with an email, telling her how delighted I am
> to hear from her. I keep these follow-ups short because my experience has
> been that there will be no response for at least a year, maybe two or
> three, and there’s no sense extending myself when there’s a pretty good
> chance she doesn’t even bother to read her email.
>
> Sure enough, it’s as if the entire thing never happened. As if I imagined
> it. Maybe I did. I could go look in my email, but frankly, I’m too lazy.
>
> And it’s not as if I have anything against people living their lives – in
> fact, I’m all in favor of it. I’m certainly fond of living mine. And not
> everyone is as desperate for human contact as I am. (Did I just say that
> out loud? Where people can hear me?) But if I wanted a prairie dog for a
> friend I’d move out to where prairie dogs live and make some new ones.
>
> No, I don’t mean that. I’m just going through a phase.
>
> I’m also going through a let’s-not-be-judgmental phase. It’s a pain in the
> freakin’ ass, let me tell you. I’m being all nice and accepting people for
> who they are, but then I want to say, “Hey! Get with the program!”
>
> No, that’s not true. I accept you in all your human frailties because, look
> at this, I’ve got tons of them myself! I’ve overloaded with human frailties
> in fact. Just today someone flipped me off when they perceived that I cut
> them off in traffic. Please note, I said “perceived.” As in, I won’t admit
> to it. If I did do it, which of course I didn’t, because I’m a perfect
> driver, it’s because I honestly didn’t see them. (I was too busy thinking
> about my prairie dogs.)
>
> Anyway, they flipped me off, and I thought, “Wow, did that make you feel
> better?”
>
> Well, maybe it did. Every time someone annoys me, say they make a U-turn
> where the sign says NO U-TURNS because it’s in the way of traffic and
> they’re putting everyone around them in danger, I think, “Oh well, no one’s
> perfect.”
>
> What was my point? Oh, right – my human frailties. Apparently I’m a bad
> driver. I also am terrible at getting thank you cards out, and I’m whiny. I
> could go on and on, but it looks like I’m just making a case for why people
> disappear for so long.
>
> But I’m fun! I am!
>
> Here’s my point, in case you were wondering. If you are a prairie dog, you
> can go ahead and be one. Really. It’s okay. Maybe you thought you wanted to
> get back in touch with me and then realized who I am and changed your mind.
> Maybe life got busy. It does that. I’m fairly certain I’m not the only one
> this happens to, so it’s not as if I’m taking it personally. (Well, sort
> of, but I take everything personally.) And if you should start to think,
> “It’s been too long, I feel bad for not getting in touch sooner, so I’ll
> just put it some more . . .” Don’t. Don’t think it’s been too long, I mean.
> (I certainly did not mean Do Not Get In Touch.) It’s never been too long,
> and you just get around to it when you get around to it.
>
> Unless I’m dead. Then it’s been too long. But that’s not looking like it’s
> going to happen soon.
>
> Unless I get hit by a truck.
>
> But I’ll stay out of the way of trucks just in case.
>