Sunday was a lackadaisical kind of day at the old housienda. The Janmeister was packing for her annual trip to her parent’s cabin on the lake in New York and I was tasked with doing hum-drum tasks, such as putting the Washington state plates on the cars to make them legal.
I eventually decided to take a little siesta, it being that kind of a day. As I plopped down in the bed in the cavernous room we call the master, I happened upon an old favorite of mine on the tube.
Yes, Lady and the Tramp. As you may recall, this was my first official date movie with my sister’s in law’s sister, Lucy. Being a kid, I think I enjoyed the movie far more than she did. And yes, I am still a sucker for the spaghetti slurp that turns into an unexpected kiss.
But I also loved a bigger theme of the movie, something I guess I was too young to understand when the movie first came out
It was during the scene when Lady had run off after getting muzzled. She and Tramp met up with the beaver at the zoo who freed her from the contraption, they spent the rest of the day and all the way to morning, enjoying a life of total freedom.
That’s how they ended up at Tony’s to dine on the spaghetti. Well, lo and behold in his part of the movie, was the message that had escaped me all these years.
As they sat on a hilltop overlooking the city, Lady suddenly felt guilty about not going home. Tramp was aghast, wanting to know why anyone would want to return to the “leash life.”
Suddenly, it dawned on me that some of my own life has paralleled this movie. You see, I’ve known a Lady or too. Not a lady in the sense of her being a lady, obviously. I have known many of those. No, I’m talking about the kind that seems to enjoy the leashed life, a life of fences, barriers and safety.
Me, I appear to be the Tramp in this story, and after watching that scene, rightly so. I have tried to live the leashed life myself a time or two. Usually, it’s because my “owner” wanted to muzzle me or at least keep me tied to a relationship I didn’t really fit into, but the leash managed to keep me attached to it anyway, at least for a time.
But this isn’t necessarily about that part of my life. Rather, it’s about why I was ever attracted to the “leasherly” type of girl. Thinking about it, I guess I admired their commitment to the lives they lived. They seemed to be O.K. with the fence that surrounded them. They rarely ever ventured out into the world at large, and certainly not without their leash.
Sure, they would love to go and play with the Tramp for a while. It was exhilarating. A walk on the wilder side of life for them. But eventually, like Lady, they would feel guilty about not being home, safe and sound in the suburban life they dwelt in. No, it wasn’t the gadabout world of Tramp, but to them it was home.
That’s what is so funny about Lady. She desperately wants to be like Tramp. She marvels at his devil may care attitude about life and the adventure it holds and she may even, for a time, decide that that’s the life she wants to lead.
But then she hears home calling. The safety of those four walls, the comfort of being leashed. In her head, she justifies it all that she was merely coming to her senses, that she had all these responsibilities there. That without her, everything would fall apart.
So off she runs, back home, where her master awaits. True, he doesn’t pay any attention to her. Like a comfy old chair in the corner, she awaits for those rare times when she gets a pat on the head for being a good girl or a little bit of lovin’. But most times, she’s running for cover as her master takes after her with a rolled up newspaper because something in his castle was not the way he liked it, and by thunder, Lady would pay for it.
This Tramp often wonders what that life is like. It certainly isn’t for me. Yes, I’ve had a master or two try to put a leash on me and lead me around. But eventually I break free and head for the hills. There, I lick my wounds (and my balls – hey, dog story here) and thank my lucky stars that I survived such a close call.
I think about what that life would have been like, trading it all in to be with Lady on a leash. Sure, it sounds romantic. After all, that’s what the movie was all about – another Disney happily ever after where Tramp finds a place to call home. But as I sit there on that hilltop, with a great view of the world around me, and the world as it might have been, I am so glad that I didn’t fight to stay with Lady.
She might like that life on a leash. I guess it makes her feel safe and sound. But to me, it’s a cage. Sure, you don’t have the bars surrounding you, but if you’re tied to a leash, what’s the difference, really? You can’t do as you please when you’re roped to the side of the house. You can only try to convince yourself that it’s not really all that bad. Yes, you feel kind of unloved and unwanted a lot of the time, but then your master throws you a small bone and pats you on the head. Then it’s back to your chores, back to the hum-drum life, a dog’s life in the ‘burbs.
And you know that somewhere out there is your true love, the Tramp. Roaming free, all the world is his oyster and life is lived as it should be, on one’s own terms.
In the Emerald City, marking my territory everywhere I go,
– Robb