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Let The Dog Out

"To see things thousands of miles away, things dangerous to come, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to see and be amazed.”

- Life Magazine Motto

As a kid, my family had a dog. I know a great opening line. Don’t worry, no need for the tissues. This ain’t a junior varsity version of Marley and Me. Anyway, our dog was a stout chocolate English Labrador. A wild dude, full on dog; fun, excitable, affectionate. Barked a lot but not obnoxiously. Jumped on kids if they held anything he could play with (don’t worry no children were injured…in this story). He was a good dog, and we named him, Grizz.

For years, we lived in a neighborhood relatively secluded, deep in the woods, surrounded by trees, ticks, and little woodland creatures, all sorts of fun for a dog. For too long, we did not “de-man” him…biologically speaking. I am still not sure why? My best guess is my mom love him so much, she still wanted the option of having another one of him (sounds sweet but if true a little creepy). But this simple fact had made this literal stud, unapologetically and overtly, him, and for a while, took him to a lot of places beyond our yard.

Many times, we had neighbors, a couple streets over, call us to pick him up because he would be “playing” with their dog. Some days, we would find him not only a couple streets over but a couple neighborhoods over, across a river, and a couple streets through many people’s yards (and probably through some well manicured gardens and rose bushes). For him, it was a simple excursions, but for us, mainly my mom, it meant getting back in the car after a long day, jumping on the highway into traffic, just to reach such neighborhood and retrieve our young “retriever”. All because this dog had adventure and female in his scent, and life was too good to wait for either.

One night while eating dinner around the table, with Grizz by my side panting from the joys of his most recent neighborhood excursion but still not tired enough not to beg for food, I see a small puddle of blood on the ground under him. In shock, I looked at him and see the inside of his ear ripped open. More than likely, from some fight with another dog or jumping a fence hoping his eyes, nose, and loins were all in agreement. However, his face was like “relax dude, I’ll roll around in the grass later; by the way, you gonna eat the rest of that chicken?” Yeah, ole Grizz was reckless, adventurous, and for the most part, happy and free.

However, all young bulls become old bulls, and mustangs die or become tamed, and the rooster must count his chickens before they hatch…wait, sorry one too many analogies. So amidst of having three kids, jobs, and lives of their own; my parents decided nobody’s got time for this. Instead of doing the kind thing and chopping off the poor guy’s manhood, my parents installed an invisible fence.

Initially, this didn’t go well. This wild domestic beast, full of “life”, was being restricted to one yard by himself for the rest of his days. At first, we would arrive home, and he seemed depressed. Looking at us like the shot ball player who wonders why we have a life outside of him (the game is bigger than you, man). His running buddies, aka the other dogs in the neighbor, would swing-by from time to time to see him. Then run to the next house expecting him to follow, but he wasn’t going anywhere and for a time, that was a sad reality for poor Grizz. Until we put the poor guy out of his misery…RELAX, we got him neutered.

I tell you the tale of ‘Grizz’ to say: if you’re going to take a man’s soul best take his manhood with it.

I believe part of the masculine expression is to explore, to build, and to create. Yet, personally, my growth as a man and my passion to pursue new experiences are mutually inclusive. For many years, my mind insulated my soul from discovering pure joy and expression in an effort to preserve not to fulfill.

Therefore, these are the stories of my soul’s search to be set free, not beholden to expectations or perceptions, or limited to a life dependent on fear or constant comfort. The motto of Life Magazine resonates with me because it sounds like the life I must live in, a life in pursuit not of the tangible but the intangible.