Apr 28, 2010

Dangerous Strays

Within the first week or two of bringing a child into the world, everything about the world changes. And you can't help what changes come over you, your thoughts and feelings, your world view. Of course, you don't know this has happened in the deep bliss/stupor of sleep deprivation, but you have changed deeply and forever, and so has your world.


You have become an investor in the Future of the World. You have become a Protector of the Innocent. You can't help it, you and the wee bairn are actually one person for a brief time. It's an indescribable time of delight and danger to realize how vulnerable you are to that red-faced bundle sleeping there in your home. He owns you, heart and soul.

Some of the mundane alteration is vividly brought home fiscally or physically but you just don't know how deep the Primordial Parent instinct runs until some Line is crossed-- its very existence an unimagined thing just days earlier.

Fortunately it was a small, but indelible event that woke the Primordial Mom in me when my own wee bairn was but two or three weeks old. I had left him napping while I went out to sweep the porch and carport in the blazing heat wave of that summer afternoon. The entrance to the back yard was wide open between the house and the back utility room, no one ever bothered to gate it, although the yard was fully enclosed otherwise. So I swept the carport as I headed toward the back yard and patio only to see a strange medium-sized dog there. It was alarmed that I was between him and his exit. He seemed rather unhappy about it, so I used my broom to make a small gesture of "Git!!" as I moved into the patio area, making sure he had plenty of room to make for the exit. No harm, no foul.

But he stood his ground and snarled at me.

Oh yes, he was claiming his ground and daring me, on my own property, to make him move! He bared his teeth and repeated the warning growl and for the merest instant I thought myself afraid. The merest of a nanosecond. . .

The full --I still don't know what to call it-- and frightening welling up of the Something inside of me that I had never met before came roaring out like. . . do I have to say it? A mama bear protecting her cub. But it wasn't a waking thought, it wasn't rage, it wasn't fear. It was indignant righteous wrath. The nerve of the creature to stand within my boundaries and threaten me--and by extension, my child-- as though it had some claim to the ground under its own feet was just too much.

I wish I could tell you what happened next, but suffice it to say I think I was able to quickly convince the creature of all of my intentions toward it, reciting all of my maternal rights and his infernal wrongs in a single breath of fire and fury. I barely remember how he left the yard, only coming to myself once back inside, shaking and breathing heavily as I went to check on the safe and sleeping innocent part of my very heart and soul. Of course he was fine and was never in any danger. I still marvel at the moment, these many years later.

It still scares me a bit, to know that particular and spectacular Something-- that vulnerable part and that primal protector all somehow tangled up in more complex emotions and arrangements of fact-- is still there. It shouldn't be awakened needlessly nor called upon lightly.

Yet I see dangerous strays within my boundaries, their angry, snarling faces telling me that they're going to stay no matter what. Shouting epithets at me and challenging me for the country I have worked for, paid for, paid taxes on, and cherished with all my heart, all my life. They want to grab at what many others have worked to earn and hide behind the gleaming teeth of their power-grabbing masters.

They don't love my country, and they seek to harm it for their own ends, these strange, hireling caretakers who are allowing the Estate to crumble while they greedily steal the silver of our Industry and the golden lamps of our Liberty.

My soul is stirred. . .


22 comments:

mushroom said...

I don't blame a stray dog. Human strays appear to be eaten up with envy. Not only do they want our stuff -- or at least for us not to have it -- they don't want us to be happy.

Too bad.

They can tax me until I'm living in a hollow log, but they can't make me a whining, miserable victim like them.

Doux said...

You tickle me huckleberry! ;~)


Making a note in black book: Do NOT piss Joan off anymore. heh

Erica said...

I get it, sister. I totally get it.

sheri said...

I get it too. BEAUTIFULLY put.

joated said...

Well put, Joan. Past tme to tell those strays to stop digging in the flower bed and get the hell out of our yard.

patti said...

A - freakin' - men! sistah...

Anonymous said...

See, this is why I visit here. ~Jimmy

Ed Rasimus said...

For those that "don't get it" your story is a concise primer. The civilized person does not rise to such violence easily, but once aroused, the outcome is inevitable--the interloper loses.

Retriever said...

Awesome post! I can relate. Because bearing children at once makes us hostages to Fortune (Zechariah's prophecy to Mary: "and a sword will pierce your heart") and gives us those mama bear super powers o alertness and determination.

KG said...

Bravo!

Daphne said...

indignant righteous wrath.

Yes ma'am. You said it all in those three, strong words.

We all find a place to stand, draw the line and raise our proverbial brooms when thoroughly provoked.

Illegal Immigration seems like a righteous place to plant our feet and say no more, come another step forward and I'll whack the shit out of your trespassing ass.

I love this post, Joan.

Jim - PRS said...

One word: excellent.

Joan of Argghh! said...

I'm still stewing in my own broth on this one, and each and every comment only serves one purpose: it encourages me to write more than I do, dammit. All your fault, you heartless, approving commenters.

Just when you think you're out, they drag you back in. . .

Thanks. I think!

:o)

Ken said...

Yes I get it, beleive me I get it! I live in Az. about twenty miles from the border and have for close to fifty years so I have seen it change so very much. I also have three sons and seven grandchildren living here and I fear for them more so than myself, so yes, I get it. The "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH" is very strong here!

Guy S said...

Directed this way by Og, and very glad I did. Your words are true, your wisdom profound. Thank you for sharing. (And yes, I "got it" too.)

Guy S said...

Boy is my face red, I meant to say I came here via Fran. *goes in the corner, sits on the stool, and affixes the dunce cap properly atop his head*

pamibe said...

Better than any essay put forth by the popular press! Huzzah! And by all means, say on!

PeggyU said...

Well, if comments add fuel to the fire then please throw another log on :) That was very well put. When I talk to friends who don't have children, most of them are a lot more ambivalent about the future and more focused on just postponing the storm until they are gone.

Joan of Argghh! said...

It's funny, but I never meant this as an immigration rant. My thought ran more to our elected officials as miscreant caretakers of our Republic, and their rabid dogs they've sent out to scavenge our wealth.

diamond dave said...

What we need is more people to get this pissed when they realize that what's theirs is being taken away from them.

Longhaired Conservative said...

Linked!
http://mindnumbedrobot.com/new-2
Excellent story.

Joan of Argghh! said...

OMG! Robot-link-luv!!11!!

*swoon*