DeHavilland

Lessons in Parenting from The Wild

Velda‘s mate, Dehavilland, has been out and about lately.

They were out together, yipping quietly to let each other know where they were, also to let their kits – we haven’t seen them yet – know where their parents are and even though not in their presence, still to listen and obey.

Ah, The Wild…

Things are so different in The Wild.

Rarely…check that. I’ve never seen human parents as genuinely concerned for their children’s development as parents of The Wild.

To say it’s a completely different mindset is to say water isn’t fire. Well, duh!

Parental care in The Wild doesn’t care about property rites, transmission of wealth, so on and so forth. No human concerns here. All there is is “I’ll do the best I can preparing you for your life without me, because my time is few and you will live after I’m gone. I will prepare you so you can share this message with your children. If I’ve parented well and you’ve learned well, you’ll have children and share this message with them.”

Velda the Fox

Patience in all things. Especially when things are hesitant.

We have friends.

They are gracious and loving, never overstaying their welcome.

Some are unsure of their welcome, though.

We do what we can to let them know our joy at their presence, our happiness at their arrival.

But their history with others…flavors their relationship with us.

We don’t blame them. If enough Italians hurt you, you become wary of Italians. If enough Londoners hurt you, you become wary of Londoners. Doesn’t really matter if it’s Chinese, Germans, Jews, Muslims, Christians, Aboriginals, doctors, lawyers, teachers, butchers, bakers, candlestick makers, …

So The Foxen are wary of us.

We give them time.

A chance to learn our voices, our scents, our ways.

We endeavor to be to them as we wish them to be to us; giving, sharing, caring, loving.

Slowly, they learn that we, at least, are not like others who look like us.

Wish all things could be that way.

DeHavilland On the Town

Sometimes you need some time alone

I recently had the good fortune to eavesdrop on Cuthbert and DeHavilland talking politics during a meal.

It was fascinating, learning how different species deal with similar challenges. Fox kits and Raccoon kits; what can you do? Well, I don’t know. What do you do when they are banned from certain stores in the mall? Or certain trees in the forest? Or certain streams in the glen?

And chores. Is there ever an end to them? If it’s not another perch for the children it’s more grass for the den.

And heaven forbid you bring home the wrong gurge. This one wants chipmunk, that one wants pigeon! I tell them, I only have two paws, you know. You want something special, how about you go out foraging and find something for yourself? But no, they have their faces buried in their iWilds, tapping and swiping. This one’s addicted to Turkey Crush, that one’s listening to Red Hot Squirrel Feathers. I can’t keep up.

Hence the enjoyment of a night out on your own, quiet, enjoying the stars and saying hi, a welcome nod, to passersby.

Ah, it’s a good thing.

 

Cuthbert and DeHavilland Dine

Friends can agree to disagree and still remain friends. Really. It’s true. I’ve seen it happen.

Early one recent morning I became privy to an intense conversation taking place in our backyard.

Can you tell I’ve been reading lots of early 20th century authors?

Anyway, this fine morning, the stars still out and the sun yet to shrug off sleepiness, an intense conversation.

No conflict, no raised voices, no threats, simply two friends enjoying each other’s cerebrations over a good meal.

Have you ever had that joy? Being with someone you love and admire, someone who’s intellect alone brings you joy, someone whose each word opens vistas previously unknown to you?

Ah, it is a joy.

It is also, for me and alas, a challenge to find. People are often too opinionated. They state what they heard, not what they know. They don’t question information so much as naively accept it as if it were inscribed on the Third Tablet from Mount Horeb.

I don’t mind opinions so long as the opinionator understands I may have one that differs.

It is in the differences that we learn.

Or I do, anyway.

It’s nice to find refuge in those of a similar mind, similar opinion, yes.

How much more glorious to find refuge with those with whom you disagree? To know that here there is safe argument, there is welcomed dissent, to be envigored in the arms of mutual respect, concern and a desire to understand all viewpoints, …

And now the kicker; to agree to disagree and still be friends.

This is prevalent in The Wild, as witnessed by Cuthbert and DeHavilland.

Enjoy your discussion, friends. I can but sit and admire.

 
PS) DeHavilland is the shy one.

The Chatter After Lights Out

New Life, Old Magic

It’s Spring again. Another 365.something day tour around our own little star. Isn’t it grand? Do you take for granted your travels on Spaceship Earth? Our home isn’t stuck on some foundation with a permanent address that can be viewed on Google Maps.

No, far from it. We’re traveling. We are travelers without knowing from whence we came or where we go.

The Old Ones know this. They take nothing for granted.

Except cookies and peanuts.

From yours truly.

Opie and Opette come to dine nightly, as does Vincenzi the Fox. Gladys and her crowd come by during the day.

Most recently we’ve been guested by Verne, one of Hecate’s kits. There are two others who also come by and say hello, although usually after we’ve shut off the lights and are in bed. We hear them talking; “Pass the peanuts?” and “Is that fresh water?” and “Any more cookies?”

And we’ll see them and other Old Ones through the year and through the years. All of them come to us. We’re a house of magic. So they tell us.

We believe. Old Ones don’t lie.

Say hello to Verne, all.