The Sessions

I spoke yesterday of trying to talk the neighbors' dog Gretta out of fighting with other dogs when I walk her. Of course, I don't think she understands the words, but the tone of voice I use can't help but make an impression. She repays me for talking to her by listening. Good listeners are rare, and they tend to be among the most helpful when one is working through problems or feelings. I always think of Carson McCullers' book "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter", where that is the central conceit.

Gretta will listen all day long, and I take advantage, because most people I talk to insist on having their say from time to time. Gretta never does. In truth, I don't know that I've really even heard her bark. She has an expressive face though. Anyway, I talk to her through most walks. A lot of people listen to music while walking a dog, but I think that would be rude. I wouldn't do that with a person, and I treat dogs like people since it's too hard to learn more than one way of treating anyone or anything.

I talk to her about what's going on in my life, and she's about as helpful as Sigmund Freud would be if I could have a session with him. That was his MO, if I understand correctly: he simply would sit there and take notes while his patient laid on the couch talk talked about their problems. If you talk long enough, soon enough the solution emerges from your own lips, and the interlocutor need say nothing but "Aha!"

I also try to advise Gretta on life. She's still rather young, and I would spare her the same mistakes that I have made to this point if I could, so I impart what knowledge I have painfully gleaned, and I hope that she takes it. Of course, you just can't tell some people anything, and so they must be left to make the mistake for themselves. That's my attitude with Gretta. I teach her the best I can, and then I just let her go.