Lillee the Huntress

Lillee is a throw back. She is not what a bichon frise should be. She looks the part of a Bichon with her white, soft, slightly curly fur and the tail that curls gently over her back but the ancient art of sitting next to an owner and being quietly stroked and pampered is not part of her makeup. She is a dog not a lap dog. She proves it every day. She is a hunter...the most ancient type of dog.


Her purpose, as she wakes in the morning is not to move from bed to chair quietly following the owner to fulfill the owner’s need to love something living. She does not rise in the morning thinking, “how may I best serve my owner this day?” She rises for the specific purpose of getting outside as quickly as possible and not for the general doggie reason. Her primary task is to take a survey of the yard. What has happened over night? What animals have left their scent behind? Who has come into her domain? Is there a squirrel on the bird feeder that she might surprise if she is quick enough out of the door? Could there be a ground squirrel too far from its hole? She darts to a tree and does a brief inspection ending with a quick pounce in the hopes that she has surprised some furry or feathered creature and then continues on to finish the yardly inspection. This is the worthy purpose that begins Lillee’s day.

It is only when these questions have been satisfied that Lillee will concede to being a lap dog and then only for brief stretches of time. It is always necessary to do timely checks on her realm for any changes that may have occurred but in between those checks she will take moments of relaxation and allow herself to be petted and pampered. She is, after all, the ruler of this one acre kingdom and deserves the pat as an acknowledgement of her importance in the protection of the castle in her kingdom.

Her survey and protection of this yard occasionally results in the capture and sometimes execution of those inhabitants that venture out while she is on her survey. In her role as hunter and protector she can sit totally inanimate for extended periods of time waiting for any creature to dare to cross her path, to come up out of a hole or to stealthily move down a tree. When she has fulfilled that hunter’s instinct, she expects to be acknowledged for her skill. She proudly presents her prize by bringing it into the house to be dropped at her owner’s feet or laid carefully on the carpet to be admired. It is the role of her owner, myself, to duly admire the kill...and then quickly dispose of it before she decides to completely carry out the hunter’s instinct. Exhausted and fulfilled by her role as yard protector supreme she, once again, takes a moment to be a lap dog until it is time to go to bed for night; assured that in the morning her skills and her role as the hunter dog will begin again. She may be bichon but she is hunter!

It is in watching Lillee at her morning tasks that has me wondering what I would be like if I did not live according to the roles assigned to me. She has no sense of her heritage only her sense of calling and that calling is her primary purpose in life. Is there a way to live, I wonder, as if I were not daughter, mother, woman, sister, aunt, ancestor to the Applachians and all the other stories that seem to make up parts of me; stories that through the years have defined me to me. What if I simply got up in the morning and raced to fulfill my purpose in life as Lillee does? Would I be filled with the joy and commitment that I sense in Lillee every morning? It is hard to begin to imagine who I would be and what I would be like if I were not defined by the roles and stories and even by my name. All these aspects lend structure to who I think of as myself in the way that the body lends a structure to the soul. And, this is where I pause. The soul has so much more freedom when it is not bound by a body. Would I be able to enjoy that freedom if I were not caught up in who this body is as defined by that which has been named Deborah? Is it possible to live as Lillee does without the sense and heritage of being Bichon and simply be “dog.” As my mind tries to wrap itself around this concept, there is a moment when I grasp fully what this might be like and then, like the ground squirrels Lillee chases, it slips into a hole. I think this lack of structure might be worth sitting inanimately, as Lillee does, patiently waiting for my ground squirrel to appear out of the hole again so that it may be captured. Or perhaps it is more the sense of just doing out of the being that Lillee teaches me each morning...just simply do what I was meant to be and let the ground squirrels appear at the perfect moments.