I witnessed something very distressing yesterday, and on some level, I’m still shaking. There is no villain in this story. There is no simple analysis. There is just what happened:A sweet, rambunctious, fearless little Yorkie dog was almost killed by an apparently sweet, large dog who had never previously displayed aggression. It happened fast. The Yorkie was barking at another little dog. The Yorkie plays with all dogs this way. The big dog soundlessly pounced. The lack of sound — except for the terrified squealing of the Yorkie and the terrified hollering of the humans — was remarkable. The big dog stamped, then lifted the Yorkie up like a rag doll and shook her.
It was a primal act to kill. We humans instinctually recognized it, and the Yorkie was battered but saved.
I repeat: There were no villains. The big dog seemed to be acting on pure instinct, perhaps seeing the small, scampering animal as some kind of threat. We humans needed no explanation of the shake. We felt imminent death in our guts.
The owner of the big dog pounced. The owner of the little dog leapt to the ground — both fighting for the life of the Yorkie. Others of us froze.
When the Yorkie was safe in the arms of her person, the “mother” figure among us, marched both dog and person to the vet. The man with the big dog collapsed on the ground with his dog, in shock. I approached, suggested we all try to breathe as he gave me his information for my friend.
Underneath the quiet and shock was a palpable possibility of rage — for someone to snap, lash out, defend, accuse. Instead, we all breathed.
I’ve been shaking, at some level, since yesterday. Shaking is a complicated thing. It is the motion of life. Shaking is the essence of healing (see Shaking Medicine). We shake when we die, as the life force departs. Shaking is the movement of fear and rage and orgasm. Shaking is how one animal kills another — humans as well as others; I recently read an undercover report of how we humans kill rabbits for fur coats. Shaking is what people who have snapped do to babies to try to make them quiet when the life noise becomes too much. Shaking happens when we are overwhelmed. It is a killer instinct and the instinct to live.
How to live with this complicated movement?
I’m working on it. And as I shake through what happened yesterday, I find myself thinking that this is the only thing to do: Shake through. Endure. Whether it’s fear, rage, or orgasm, life or death; whether it is defending life or ending it. Just house the shake. Try not to judge or blame. But endure.
(Photo by James Yeargin)
