Vampire Princess

As we told you in our last newsletter, our sweet greyhound dog has died.
Here's a bit more about her.

In many ways, Molly was exactly the right dog for us.

She may have been the only greyhound ever who could be let outside without supervision into an unfenced yard with an extensive view. Most greyhounds will see something move on the horizon and head for it. Molly would just sniff around for awhile, maybe run back and forth a bit, then lie on the grass and gaze into the distance.

She was an introvert who didn't mind being left alone for a long time-- in fact, at first she seemed to find it a positive relief. She had lots of anxieties, but separation was not one of them, and that was good because we have to travel, and were very rarely able to bring her along with us.

No matter what she was up to, when we whistled for her she came flying-- she was very fast, even for a greyhound-- and then come to a dead stop at our feet, 40 to 0, boop, like it was nothing, like Newton's first law didn't exist. We didn't teach this, she came that way.

When deer came around, she'd shrink back and want to go inside-- they were too big for her. The only things she chased were grey squirrels, not very often, and fast as she was, she managed to never catch one.

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We'd had a greyhound before her, Billy. He always knew when there was a dog within a mile, and would be there in a blink, eating up the space that lay between. I never bothered calling him on the outward run because I knew he wouldn't come, and I didn't want him to get used to ignoring me. (A bit like the King in The Little Prince, reasoning about generals and butterflies.)

Molly was equally good at knowing when there was a dog ahead, but for the opposite reason: she'd stop dead, refuse to budge, or turn to go the other way. Sadly unsocial, but very convenient during a walk in the woods. And essential in a yard that has had dogs living to the south, east, and west, one of them visible across a busy highway.

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In some ways, Molly was exactly the wrong dog for us.

Leanne and I are huggy-touchy-feely with dogs, and Molly was hand-shy, quick to feel crowded, and leery of almost all physical contact. They had masked this symptom at the shelter by introducing her to us in company with a very demonstrative and friendly lab/greyhound cross, and Molly seemed social enough in that context-- taking her cues from the other dog, and competing for attention.

We discovered her issues during the car ride home from the shelter. She went off balance, poor thing, fell into the space between the front and back seats and couldn't figure out how to get up. She scrabbled for awhile then stood frozen and wild-eyed. When we tried to help her back up onto the seat she screamed so loudly we thought our fingers must have gone knuckle-deep into some open wound. But no, she was just panicked, and when we touched her the panic got so much worse that she screamed.

We heard that scream quite often, early on, but by degrees we all adjusted. It was hard, Billy had been very mushy so Molly's greyhound looks called forth our dog-hunger-- but as we stopped making little lunges at her she began to relax and become more trusting.

After awhile you could stand next to her and pet her (a little) as long as you weren't looking right at her, and she wasn't looking at your hands. She seemed to liked that quite well, sometimes. But any serious cuddling remained strictly out of bounds. We had to get what we needed in that department from unruly dogs we knew or encountered, ruining their training and encouraging bad behavior as they flung themselves up into us and got all up in our faces.

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It was like she had a list. Everything that she tried once and didn't turn out well went on the list, which only seemd to get longer. Once something landed there it was almost impossible to get it off.

She loved us-- no question about it. Somewhere along the line somebody had used hands to grab and hold her, and then something happened she really didn't like. So, seeing hands come towards her freaked her out. She didn't mind if we petted her with our feet -- I guess nobody had ever kicked her. But in general, hands were No Good unless they had food in them, and even then she was careful.

You could tell she would have loved more petting, if she could have gotten over the panic-- she was always a sweet dog, sentimental and social. It was a real shame.

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You couldn't coax her onto a couch or bed-- the idea filled her with horror. And god forbid you should try to sit on the floor next to her. In the ten years we had her, if anybody tried that piece of basic dog-friendly behavior she'd bound up like a terrified jack-in-the-box and speed into a different room.

Maybe some vet or trainer (track dogs have owners, but they usually don't have much to do with them) once sat down next to her and gave her a shot, or tattooed her ear, or even just grabbed her roughly to put on a sweater. Almost anything coud have done it.

Little by little over many years we got her used to one of us bending at the knee a little, then squatting close by, then going down on one knee, then onto two knees. She'd roll her eyes and look concerned, but learned to tolerate it. But let one butt-cheek hit the floor-- BOING!-- she was gone!

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We loved each other a lot, with all the mutual pleasure and comfort that dogs and dogpeople find in each other's company.

And as Molly grew frailer, near the end of her life, that list she'd been maintaining began to fade. As she got creakier, and her hip began to bother her, she learned the joys of full-body massage (as long as it was delivered in a particular way, standing, from the side), and in fact began to demand it as part of her morning routine, leaning up against us, and half-closing her eyes.

A couple of years ago, we had a kind of Christmas miracle in a motel room. She actually spent part of the night on the bed with us.

And at the very end, when she couldn't reliably remember where the door was, or how to lie down on her bed, the list was gone. I sat on the floor with her, her head in my lap, and petted her and petted her, and-- though we were both feeling pain-- we were happy.

 

Once upon a time there was a little chicken, and everybody called him-- Chicken Little.

And one day while he was out walking, up in the sky a bird flew over and it dropped an acorn, and the acorn fell down and-- bip-- bopped him on his head. Chicken Little said "AWK! " and looked up, and he didn't see anything, and he looked down and he didn't see anything. So he said

"Help, help the sky is falling! Help, help the sky is falling! I have to tell the King!"
And he went running down the road, looking for the King.

As he was running he met Henny Penny. And Henny Penny said, "Buk Buk Buk BUK! Hello Chicken LIttle. What in the world is wrong with you?" And Chicken Little said, "Oh Henny Penny! Haven't you heard-- the sky is falling! The sky is falling! I have to tell the King." And Henny Penny said, "Really? Really? How exciting! Buk buk buk BUK! I want to go too." And they went down the road together, shouting "Help, help the sky is falling! Help, help the sky is falling! We have to tell the King!"

After awhile they met Goosey Loosey. "(Honk! Honk!) Hello Chicken Little, hello Henny Penny. What in the world is wrong with you?" "Oh, Goosey Loosey, haven't you heard? The sky is falling! We have to tell the King!" "Honk Honk! That's terrible! Honk honk. I want to go too." And they all went down the road together shouting "Help, help the sky is falling! Help, help the sky is falling! We have to tell the King!"

And along the road, they met Turkey Lurkey. And Turkey Lurkey said "(Gobble gobble gobble!) Hello Chicken Little, Hello Henny Penny, Hello Goosey Loosey. What in the world is wrong with you?" "Oh, Turkey Lurkey. Haven't you heard? The sky is falling! The sky is falling! We have to see the King!" "(Gobble gobble gobble!) Oh that's terrible! Can I go too?" And they all went down the road saying "Help, help the sky is falling! Help, help the sky is falling! We have to tell the King!"

And they went down the road, and they met Foxey Loxey. And Foxey Loxey said, "Hello, Chicken Little, Hello Henny Penny, Hello Goosey Loosey. What in the world is wrong with you?" And they told him, "Oh, Foxey Loxey, haven't you heard? The sky is falling! We have to tell the King!"

"Nothing easier," said Foxey Loxey. "He's back there in my den. But the King doesn't like to feel crowded, so I'd better bring you in one by one. Now, who wants to go first?"

Everybody wanted to be first to see the King, but the Turkey was the biggest. "Gobble gobble gobble. Me first! Gobble gobble gobble. I want to see the King!" and he pushed everybody else away.

"Come with me," says Foxey Loxey, and they went down into the hole together. And after a moment the other animals heard a was big commotion down in there, a lot of squawking and barking and feathers flying out— and then the fox called up, "NEXT"

"Honk Honk. Me! I want to go! Honk Honk! Me next" said Goosey Loosey, and she pushed her way down into the hole. More squawking, more feathers, and the fox said "NEXT!

"Buk buk buk BUK!" said Henny Penny, and she jumped down in the hole. Squawks, feathers, and then............ no sound at all.

And then, Chicken Little suddenly remembered — it was his turn to take the garbage out. So he went home. And so poor Chicken Little never got to see the King.

NOTES ON PERFORMANCE

Don't be afraid to go over the top with this thing.

When Chicken Little says "Help Help!" the first time, the audience should jump a little. Everybody's panicking, make them wild!

For goodness sakes, don't say the words "honk honk"or "gobble gobble" etc. Make the animal sounds. (If you don't know what they sound like, you can google them.) Be a hysterical chicken, hen, duck, and finally a whole crowd of hysterical fowl. Flap your arms, look around wildly. Go for it! It's what makes this story work.

Enjoy the repetitive nature of the tale. Think of it as a song with a really good chorus. Don't hold back as it progresses. You may be able to get a young audience to join in "The Sky is falling! The Sky is falling! We have to tell the King!"

Little physicalization touches-- you'll think of some of these yourself, but for example: on the first "bap!" put your hands on your head, pull your head into hour shoulders, look up. Turkey pushing the other animals away. "A lot of squawking from down in the hole"-- look down in the hole amd point while speaking, then look up at the audience) "feathers came flying out" (hand motions indicating a small fountain of feathers.)

Voice dripping with concern at the end-- "POOOOR little Chicken Little."