Dogs and Philosophers Always Allowed

I have been described as a cynic by more than one person, and even some of my words and actions have admittedly been what most would describe as cynical.

Dictionary.com (because I don't have a paper dictionary on hand at the moment) gives the following definitions for cynical:

1. like or characteristic of a cynic; distrusting or disparaging the motives of others.
2. showing contempt for accepted standards of honesty or morality by one's actions, esp. by actions that exploit the scruples of others.
3. bitterly or sneeringly distrustful, contemptuous, or pessimistic.

I will openly admit that I am at times very much like the above. I am not easily trusting of others, or their motivations. Part of this is due to some bad relationships (not all of which were romantic, I should specify), and generally overall life experience. My trust is hard to earn, even harder to win back once damaged. When my trust is won however, I am a very loyal person, sometimes to a fault. I won't deny being taken advantage of in the past, to the point where I would not blame someone where they to witness some of these incidents and label me a fool. They wouldn't be altogether wrong--a fool I very rightly am in some cases, make no mistake. I am wise, but only due to my immense foolishness, and not all the time do I ever manifest both traits simultaneously. Interesting to note about the fool as well--his antics can bring out the faults in others, like the court jester jabbing at the faults of the royalty with immunity, or the antics of Coyote.

Interesting to note as well, when one researches into the history of the word cynical or cynic, we come up with this, also from :

A cynic may be pardoned for thinking that this is a dog's life. The Greek word kunikos, from which cynic comes, was originally an adjective meaning "doglike," from kuōn, "dog." The word was probably applied to the Cynic philosophers because of the nickname kuōn given to Diogenes of Sinope, the prototypical Cynic.

Thus comes an interesting and enlightening connection! But it gets better. Stanley Coren, in his book How Dogs Think, writes of the sect's founder Diogenes:

Plato's contemporary Diogenes, another significant Greek philosopher, although more eccentric than most, became known for wandering the world with a lamp claiming to be "looking for an honest man." While he had his doubts about humans, Diogenes thought dogs were extremely moral and intelligent and even adopted the nickname "Cyon," which means "Dog." He would go on to found one of the great ancient schools of philosophy, and he and his followers would later become known by his nickname as "Cynics" or "Dog Thinkers." Diogenes' own intelligence and wit were such that Alexander the Great, after meeting him in Corinth, went away saying, "If I were not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes."
When Diogenes died, the people of Athens raised a great marble pillar in his memory. On top of the pillar was the image of a dog. Beneath the dog there was a long inscription that started with the following bit of conversation:
"Say, Dog, I pray, what guard you in that tomb?"
"A dog."
"His name?"
"Diogenes."

I am deeply inspired by the stories and thinking of Diogenes, a true-to-life, historical cynanthrope who lived his beliefs deeply and completely--not just talked about them (more on this later). I always seek to emulate this in my spiritual path. The search for truth and honesty, the striving for discipline and the knowledge of self. Cynicism has, I feel, taken a bad rap. I am not habitually negative, but I am not habitually positive either. I am, however, habitually passionate. I am passionate about life, about my philosophy and spirituality and occult practice. I am passionate about my relationships with others, and I am deeply passionate about my inner knowing, of which my personal cynanthropy plays a very big part.

Two books: One Horrible, The Other Excellent

I'll start off with the horrible one first, to get it out of the way: Dog Spirit: Hounds, Howling, and Hocus-Pocus, by Patricia Telesco

This book was...well. I don't even know where to begin, and to detail all of the errors of this book would be to go through it all over again--which is something I want to do right now about as much as I'd like to drive a rusty nail through my skull (in fact, the only reason why I bought it, in the end, was because it was 50% off at a downtown book fair). Then again, given that this book is written by none other than Patricia Telesco, it should come to little surprise. Although the author made a valiant attempt at trying to recount various bits of canine facts, lore and other information, she managed to make several grievous mistakes. For example, apparently the author doesn't know that a hyena is not canine (and appears to hold quite a negative view of them, by suggesting the reader destroy effigies of them, etc.), that a chow-dog is not an Irish dog breed, and that crystal healing and color therapy are reasonable approaches for treating various canine ailments.

Seriously.

I'm reviewing this book so people know what to avoid. Want a good book on mystical canine-lore? I can recommend two. David Gordon White's Myths of the Dog-Man is an exceptional work, as well as Patricia Dale-Green's Lore of the Dog. As for Telesco's "Dog Spirit", I'd steer clear away from this one.

This second book, an excellent read, is Kinship with the Wolf: The Amazing Story of the Woman Who Lives with Wolves, by Tanja Askani.

Askani's book was an amazing and moving piece, filled with some great photography and fascinating insight into the world she shares with wolves at the Luneberger Heide Wild Game Park in Germany. One of the primary reasons why I picked up this book was because it was given an excellent review by Marc Bekoff, one of my all-time favorite authors, ethologist, and co-founder with Jane Goodall of Ethologists For The Ethical Treatment of Animals. Another fantastic reason why I picked up this book is because this book is written from a more Eurocentric perspective--Askani goes into great detail about the current status of wolves in the European Union, as well as regional viewpoints and the status of wolves in Germany. This would be a great book for someone who seeks to look outside the continental US viewpoint on wolves and their status (not to say that the status of wolves in the continental US is not important! But more Eurocentric perspectives on wolves in English are seemingly hard to come by!)

For a therianthrope or otherkin who feels they harbor a deep connection with canines, especially of the C.lupus species, this book is a must-read, as Askani delves into the spiritual as well as psychological connections between wolves and humans, connecting these points with modern occurrences and personal experience and insight.

I think, when I plan my next trip to Germany, I'm going to include Luneberger Heide Wild Game Park in my itinerary. I would love to see some of the wolves she writes about in person.

This is all I have for now. I have numerous photos and other things I need to transfer from digital camera and notebook. Given everything else that's going on in my life at the moment, finding time to do everything is becoming quite a feat. I will keep this place kicking regardless though.

American Werewolf in Deutschland: Black Wolf Is Not Pleased With Solo

I spent the past month of August in Germany, where I had quite a lot of interesting adventures. Certainly enough fodder to write about, though not all at once. So here will start the first in a series of relevant posts about my adventures. This one involves an interesting encounter whilst visiting the Mackenzie Valley wolf exhibit in the Hannover Zoo.

The black wolf with the greying muzzle is the one I specifically had the encounter with. I was hanging out with my partner at the enclosure for quite a bit, observing their behavior and taking (mostly blurred and shitty) pictures. At one point I gave up and put my camera away, resigning myself to the fact that my photography skills are sub-par at best, and contented myself with watching them. The black wolf in question couldn't decide wether to sit down with his tawny-grey companion, or continue pacing and inspecting the other end of the enclosure. Eventually he settled down, and I contented myself with leaning against the rail and observing them. Aside from myself, my partner and his family, not many people where about. Otherwise it seemed quite peaceful, until something fairly unexpected occurred.

It happened when my eyes swept back to the furry bundle of wolves in front of me. I was met with blazing eyes, flashing teeth and a low growl framed against a black face...pointed directly at me. Other people who where gathered around the same area of the enclosure murmured, chattered and pointed--apparently they had seen it, too. I just stood there like an idiot, mouth hanging open. I asked my partner if that was directed at me, and looked left and right quickly to see who or what else might have raised the wolf's ire. I also quickly wracked my brain, trying to figure out if I might have done anything to bring about offense, but nothing came to mind at the time. Taking a bit of a chance, I leaned forward, hands against the rail, and wuffed softly, my intention to request clarification rather than antagonize. As I did so, the wolf's amber eyes flicked upwards to meet mine, silvery lips parting in a murderous-looking grin. Another growl was emitted, this time much louder. People who witnessed the event exclaimed loudly and pointed.

I took a step back and held my breath. The wolf lowered his/her gaze down to attend to the sleeping packmate. Nothing more was spoken between the two of us, and I stood there feeling breathless, and a bit confused.

I'm somehow reminded of the last post I made, as this very experience is very applicable. Did the wolf sense that I was, in fact, a strange canine in a strange body and act accordingly? Or more rationally, did sie* assume that I was a child, and decide to menace me with hir teeth a couple times to get a point across? I've been in a fair amount of zoos and related wildlife facilities, and I do notice that children have this nasty habit of screaming, roaring, howling, and barking at the local canine captives. This is a nasty habit and not one I engage in myself otherwise. Seeing as I was engaged first and aggressively, I merely responded, and my response was far from antagonistic or angry, merely questioning. Given that I do not possess the tall nordic gene that my ancestors did, it probably would be easy for an otherwise stressed-out and enclosed wolf to assume I would be just another loudmouthed, obnoxious little brat. I would've growled at the little bastards, too.

The answer, in the end, isn't all that clear. Perhaps there's more than one answer, or none of the above. Why I was singled out for the aggression I'll never fully know, but one thing I do know--it was a thrilling experience, especially to have on one's birthday. The conversation itself was short and simple and to-the-point (can't make it any clearer than flashing the old ivory every now and again), and regardless of any deeper meaning it bridged that species gap, if only for a few seconds. What a refreshing experience, and a nice gift on one's birthday, too.


*I was unsure of the wolf's gender in this case, so I tried to use a neutral pronoun instead.

Psychology, Newage Bullcrap and Anthropomorphics

Today I'm going to write about something that really gets on my nerves. Its something that all too frequently betrays the rampant ignorance and intellectual laziness that runs through the otherkin and therianthrope circles. It does truly amaze me how so many people who claim to be a certain type of nonhuman animal (or other sort of being) appear to be completely oblivious, or otherwise have very little idea how said animal thinks and behaves. Simple example would be those so-called "wolf therians" who claim to have urges to howl at the full moon, etc. I've also noticed this cute and fluffy little habit of projecting highly unreasonable and very anthropomorphized expectations on the animal, which only seems to indicate, to me, not only a high amount of ignorance on the part of the person making the claim, but the strong likelihood that their claims are little more than mental masturbation and flights of fancy. A person should already have an idea of the animal and its behavior before making these strong claims (and they are indeed strong--though it seems to be a common fad on the internet to make them quite casually, and encourage it). If pretending to be an anthropomorphized animal is your thing, then go join the furry community, where plenty of opportunities abound for the cultivation of such a hobby (yes, I do acknowledge that there is some subculture overlap here, this is not going to be the post discussing it however).

Okay, I realize I might be sounding like an asshole here to some people (correction: I AM an asshole, but I at least try to be reasonable on occasion), but my point is that coming to the conclusion that you are a therianthrope or an otherkin of any species or variety requires far more in-depth "soul-searching" and homework than simple meditation or reading articles and forums on the internet. A series of feel-good dreams and meditations where you see yourself prancing around as some glamorous animal doesn't make you one. Image and feel alone doesn't always make you what you think you are--the brain is a very complex and cunning device capable of a fair amount of trickery, especially if there is enough emotion and want behind the scenes. And hey, even if you do turn out to be something, say, therianthropic, would you always want your genetic animal-kin (or any animals in general really) to recognize you as such? Furthermore, are the glamorous good ole' days of frolicking in the woods and howling under the full moon (yeah, right) something you really want to go back to? Now maybe I've grown a touch too, ah, domesticated here, but I personally rather enjoy my central heating and air conditioning, and food that doesn't kick or bite back.

Allow me to present the following example, something taken from my own explorations in canine consciousness and spirituality. Back in the spring of 2007 I had the opportunity to visit WolfPark in Indiana to attend one of their three-day behavior intensive seminars, which included getting up close and personal with some of the canine residents there, including some of the wolves. These confrontations, although a truly amazing experience, helped me understand even more fully how fortunate I am to be interacting with them in the human flesh and towards animals that did not (and very likely could not) "sense" (in the subtle sense, that is) that I was one of them. We probably do not know enough about animal psychology and biology to assume that they all possess "subtle senses"--and anyone who automatically does so is anthropomorphizing by projecting their human expectations on the animal in the hopes that they will have a mystical experience. Already animal behaviorists are making discoveries that are showing that some animal's so-called "psychic abilities" are actually the result of the animal utilizing their more temporal senses, which are far more powerful than we once considered them to be.

Here is another spin I could put on it. I would not even want the wolves and other canines to know what I am "on the inside". If they did, I never would have been able to, for example, get up close to the white-phase red fox in residence there. Why? Because he probably would have fled in terror from me, or possibly attacked me in self-defense. Instead, I was allowed the opportunity to get an up-close encounter with an otherwise wild animal habituated to humans, and even pet him. It was great, and I have being human to thank for that. With the wolves it would've been even worse. Being chased to exhaustion, mauled, and being forced to piss on myself isn't precisely my idea of a good time. I would be seen as a strange canine in their territory, and not only that, but one that didn't look or smell right, either. It would have been a stressful situation for everyone involved. Now granted, with wolves that were born wild and not hand-raised by humans it would still be stressful granted, but in this case there is a higher possibility of retreat. Species, behavior and environment--all need to be taken into account.

I don't think it's impossible though for animals to possess psychic abilities, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go around looking for such a thing. Sometimes I think I might have had experiences of my own where an animal sensed something about me that deviated from the human pattern--but it was hardly the deep and meaningful and otherwise glamorous thing that the ill-informed fluffies make it out to be (in fact, I was lucky to get out of some of those situations without a trip to the hospital or stitches being involved, though I'm willing to entertain common human error into the equation as well). People have said that perhaps it is my "inhumanity" that allows me to work so well with animals. While I won't discount that entirely, I would like to point out that I have been working closely with animals off and on ever since I was a kid, and have always had an obsession with animals and animal behavior. Though yet, its the fact that I'm neurologically atypical that also helps me relate to certain animals, helps me see things on their level. Not anything mystical really, but rather just another way I utilize my brain. When working with or around animals, thinking with such newage (rhymes with 'sewage') claptrap can easily get you mauled or killed. Occam's Razor needs to be handy at all times, let alone common sense and a willingness to back up one's claims with real knowledge and information. True knowledge like this cannot be attained on any website, forum, blog or messageboard. It cannot be taught in any tiny little classroom behind a newage bookstore. It requires a willingness to truly look deep within oneself with complete and ruthless honesty, and a willingness to tear oneself away from the softly glowing computer screen outside and into the natural world and the urban jungles, where both human and nonhuman animals constantly interact with one another. Information flows in places other than the internet, and your best filter and "browser" for such information sits right between your ears, as long as you use it properly.

Dog-Samurai

Hakkenden (The Legend of the Eight Dog Warriors)

Of course, leave it up to the Japanese! The original story was one penned in the later half of the Edo era, and believed to be the largest classical novel of its time. Today I had the pleasure of watching the first two episodes of the anime OVA series that was based off of said novel. I can't say I'm a very enthusiastic fan of anime, but knowing a little history behind the Hakkenden, and finding it on sale on Best Buy, I had decided to snag it on a whim some months ago. The animation style is not so bad, and rather artistic at points (though strangely weird and disjointed at others--hard to tell if this was intentional or not. There are instances of graphic violence, starvation, allusions to bestiality and attempted rape, so this show obviously isn't for the faint of heart. Oh well, at least they didn't get into too much detail over Yatsufusa and Princess Fuse's (following link NSFW) sex life. Haha. Below is a quote from the original Wikipedia article on the Hakkenden (novel and anime):

The story takes place during the beginning of the Sengoku Jidai in Awa, a tiny province that is currently a part of modern-day Chiba Prefecture. Fuse, princess of the Awa-based Satomi clan, spiritually gives birth to eight warriors who are scattered across different areas of the region. Because the spiritual father of these warriors was a demonically-possessed dog, these warriors came to be known as the Hakkenshi (八犬士), with hak (八), or hachi, meaning "eight", the ken (犬) meaning "dog", and the shi (士) meaning "warrior". (The word "den" (伝) at the end of the title means "legend", so the title of the series translates out to "The Legend of the Eight Dog Warriors".)
Throughout the series, each dog warrior recognizes the other through three distinguishing features: a last name starting with the word "inu" (meaning dog), a birthmark in the shape of a peony (the emblem of the Satomi clan) and a bead containing a kanji character that reflects eight of the fundamental virtues of Confucianism. They are:
kō (孝) - filial piety; devotion
gi (義) - duty and obligation, but it can also be translated as righteousness
chū (忠) - loyalty
shin (信) - faith
tei (悌) - brotherhood; brotherly affection
jin (仁) - sympathy and benevolence, but note that, according to Confucianism, "jin" is also the greatest and most perfect virtue of all. It should come as no surprise that the bearer of this bead also happens to be the most powerful warrior of the eight.
chi (知) - wisdom
rei (礼) - courtesy, but this can also be translated as proper form, i.e. an extensive knowledge and proper observation of tradition and manners
Note that this is the order in which the beads appear in the story. The hierarchy of these virtues in order of importance to Confucian philosophy are: jin, gi, rei, chi, chū, shin, kō, tei.
Plotwise, the series can be divided into three parts: the Prologue, the Search, and the Resolution. The Prologue presents events that occur before the birth of the dog warriors and encompasses the majority of episode 1, although numerous Prologue events are also shown throughout the series in flashback. The Search consists of the episodes prior to the warriors' final assembly (episodes 2-11), and the Resolution shows the final climactic battle fought by the Hakkenshi in the name of the Satomi clan.

Even in the first two episodes it covered dogs/dog-spirits incarnating into human bodies, and a possible case of kitsune possession. It was very awesome to see a case of canine otherkin/cynanthropy depicted in popular media, and I was much enthused by it. And hey, even if you're simply a fan of Japanese mythology, the series could prove to be quite interesting, let alone its original novel. Definitely a must-watch if you're interested in the mythological or historical aspects of cynanthropy and canine otherkin in general.

More posts later. Things have gotten very interesting lately on multiple fronts, which have provided much fodder for future rants. My only trouble is finding the time to write all this crap down! At this moment I am gearing up to leave for Germany in two weeks, and I will be gone for a whole month. My goal while there, aside from spending some quality time with my lifepartner (top priority) and seeing some awesome sights is, hopefully, checking out the European Grey Wolves in the local zoos. Wolves in Germany are making a comeback and groups like The German Wolf Association are aiding in conservation efforts and educating the public on their new canine neighbors.

And, on the American conservation-front, a victory has been scored for the wolves in the Northern Rockies region, as a federal judge has reinstated endangered species protections. This is excellent news, but there is still plenty of work to be done to ensure their protections and conservation.

Off I go for now! Maybe I'll have something interesting to put in here before I take off in two weeks!

Adventures in Cynanthropy

Maryland Sled Dog Adventures

This is where my adventures in cynanthropy will lead me next. I actually had not known of this group, and had never expected a dog sledding team to exist in Maryland! Dog sledding is something that has always fascinated me as a child, and no real surprise. Many people who claim canine connections have been strongly influenced by the works of Jack London. For cynanthropes especially on the North American continent, the settings of London's tales in the Far North have excited the imaginations of many. Now that I've gotten up close and personal with the wolves of Wolf Park in Indiana just last spring, I look forward to getting up close and personal with a real, live dog sledding team. I'm quite thrilled that they offer hands-on opportunities for actually learning the intricacies of dog sledding, and not just being pulled around by dogs (as fun as that would be regardless!).

I believe that one's own personal therianthropy is something to be explored on all levels possible. As a cynanthrope, I am blessed that I only need to look as far as a neighbor's yard to catch even a small glimpse of that world. However, it does frustrate me that so many people who claim canine connections don't look in the right places...or otherwise won't. I can read, research and write on my therianthropy to my heart's content (and I have, too!), but I feel that sticking one's nose in a book or staring at a softly-glowing computer screen only takes one so far. My fascination with and connection to canines has taken me on many amazing adventures in my life, and a big goal of this website is to archive my thoughts and musings as I continue on my exploration, and maybe connect with others who have their own stories to share.

While we're on the topic of adventuring, on the weekend of June 12th to June 15th I will be at Four Quarters Farm attending Walking the Thresholds, a yearly gathering of otherkin and therianthropes. I've been attending WtT for some years now, and it is a neat experience to meet and connect with other like-minded people and drum up some interesting conversation and fellowship.

This place has been a bit silent lately, but I'm hoping to change that. I have other writing projects, adventures and other things in the making, so this place should see some more action.

Essays: The Watcher

4/22/08
The Watcher
By: Solo

I never put much stock into anything spiritual being hereditary, beyond perhaps the spreading of tradition or belief by word-of-mouth or some other conditioning, much like my Catholic upbringing had been. This same conditioning turned me off, not only to Catholicism, but to religion altogether. Although I considered myself to be a very spiritual person, the idea of being a very religious person became quickly lost on me as I grew numb over years of doctrine and rhetoric. Gradually I slipped under the proverbial radar, preferring to cultivate my spiritual beliefs in secret, feeling rather burned out not only by my experiences with Catholicism, but also by the rhetoric of other spiritual groups, carefully encrypted in promises of "spiritual freedom", lovebombing, and cults of personality. I immersed myself in books and research. Somehow they did me more service than any group ever did. Like a hound I followed the scent trails of my soul and all its secret murmurs, down dusty and forgotten paths. I unearthed strange wonders, and many new questions. Throughout my hunt, which started at around age fifteen when the hormones exploded within me and my mind and body started changing, I came to realize that yes, maybe it is okay to consider oneself a dog, and in putting my nose to the ground I began to track these secrets. Eventually they led me to the forbidden grounds of lost spirituality, dog-men, man-dogs, and dog-gods.

Little did I realize I was being followed. He followed me straight out of the Catholic doctrine I had left behind. He always had this interesting way of being subtle when he wanted to, remaining just downwind, just out of line of sight, a slight whisper on the wind. Later I would write in a private entry in my journal that, "I spent a number of years playing with this puzzle of appearances, correspondences, and similarities. I'd tinker with it alittle, put it aside, tinker with it again. Then I came to a realization...one that came slowly and impacted like a wave, coming in gradually and then suddenly sweeping everything away." It did indeed, leaving me feeling like an idiot. I had a good long laugh at this, after the shame of my hardheadedness faded. He had been sitting under my nose the whole damn time. All those little things over the years I wrote off as coincidences and superstitions. And yet, the biggest coincidence would ultimately be the biggest downfall of my own faulted reasoning.

Prior to my birth even, he was present, although in a different form, as the Catholic patron saint of our household. The first time I learned of him was through my father, who never went anywhere without the medal of him on a chain around his neck. My mother, too had adopted him as well after having married my father, wearing a medallion of her own, or carrying one with her on her keyring. Later when they had their first (and only) biological son, they named him after this saint. His name was Christopher.

Saint Christopher is commonly referred to as the patron saint of travelers of all sorts, from the commuting motorist to the soldier going overseas. For my family, it was a very fitting saint. My mother works with government travel and is responsible for flying people all over the world, and has also done quite her fair share of traveling herself. My father works for the US Air Force repairing aircraft and has also flown all over the world, never without his Saint Christopher's medal. My younger brother, who was named after him, studies World Politics at college. I myself am an avid traveler, delighting in road trips and plane rides, and am soon to leave the country for the first time this summer on an extended visit to Germany. For years, as long as I can remember, my family has prayed to him, and felt that it was his influence that kept us safe abroad.

There are many stories written on the life of this enigmatic saint. He was a barbarian from a foreign land, he was a Roman soldier, converted and later martyred. One need only to look at a Saint Christopher medal to get the gist of the story, and of how he got his name--a large man, staff in one hand, the Christ child on his shoulders, bearing him across a violent river. In fact, this is how he got his name, from the Greek 'Christo-phoros' or 'Christ-bearer'. However, David Gordon White, in his book 'Myths of the Dog-Man', put it well in noting that, "There exists, however, an alternate reading of his name: Christ-Apherou, 'the way-opener of the Christ', a fusion of names and functions of the same order as Hermanubis!" Hermanubis. So the plot thickens. Hermanubis was the Greco-Roman fusion of Wepwawet/Anubis and Hermes and, to quote Mary Elizabeth Thurston, "an iconographic 'chain' stretching back three thousand years or more to Wepwawet, the Egyptian guardian of the dead." She goes on to say, "Just as the timeless role of mortal dogs seems to be to assist mortal men, the repeated resurrection of the dog god--as Anubis, then Hermanubis under the Romans, and finally as Saint Christopher among the Christians--may reflect a deep-seated need for a canine protector or companion into the next life as well." Indeed, many of the earliest depictions of Saint Christopher, the Greek-Orthodox Christian iconography, showed him with the head of a dog, sometimes dressed in armor weilding a sword and cross, free hand upraised in blessing.

The idea of a dog-god masquerading as a Catholic saint watching over the household should not have come as a surprise to me, especially considering my father who had brought the tradition about. He was always the big dog-lover, and was never far from comparing himself, personally, to a dog. Nor were other family members far from making that comparison, too. I never made the connection, or really noticed or stopped to consider my father's own brand of weirdness, I was too busy dealing with my own. When I did stop to consider this, long after my so-called "awakening" to my canid-nature, it was a bit of a shock, even though it shouldn't have been any real surprise. Like father, like son. My father, who as a little boy wanted to be a fox. The man who called his family his "pack", and who referred to himself as a dog, or was referred to by other family members as a dog ("You dog! You DOG! YOU GODDAMNED DOG!", bellows my aunt). He was very subtle about it, at least in the beginning. Then it began to seep out of the woodwork, long after I embarked on my own journey. My mother began to tell curious stories. And then there was Saint Christopher.

I was always attracted to the Egyptian deities, and even as a small kid, Ancient Egypt was always one of those things that piqued my imagination and sent it soaring. It seemed inevitable, then, that later on in life I would cultivate a deep and meaningful relationship with them. And with Saint Christopher too, though under a different name and form. In a way I am only reminded of the orobourous, the serpent that bites its own tail, the idea of coming full-circle and ending up right at the beginning again, the two joined in a circuit of eternal unity. Just as the feral dog reclaims its ancestral legacy, I've reclaimed one of my own, and in many different ways.

Book Notes:
Thurston, Mary Elizabeth. The Lost History of the Canine Race. Andrews and McMeel, 1996.
White, David Gordon. Myths of the Dog-Man. University of Chicago Press, 1991