To Quit or Not to Quit

Preface: I haven’t written here for some time, but I hope to resume this blog in one way or another. While I figure all that out … I wanted to share this little piece to get going again!

“You quit too easily. You are a quitter.” I smiled at my friend and said “No, I just know when to cut my losses.”

Fast forward twenty plus years, and those words echoed back to me on a crisp fall Sunday in southside Virginia. The college campus I live next to was on fall break, so I took the opportunity to amble through campus with my seven-year-old border collie, Harley, and Willa, my two-year-old lab/border collie/corgi mix that has experienced more in her short life than most people face in a lifetime.

Willa is 53 pounds of 100 mile an hour energy. She has the power of a stealth bomber, and the focus and drive of a heat-seeking missile. When a simple orange and blue ball makes an appearance, the world disappears and the only thing that matters to her is that ball.

All our walks involve playing ball. There are rules to the game. Two players. Harley and Willa. Sometimes a foster dog will join, but generally it is the two of them. Two balls and a “chuck it” are required because I throw like, well, like a girl. I can send the ball about 75 feet with the “chuck it.” The dogs make a mad dash while performing dramatic gymnastics, and usually, but not always, Willa is the winner. They both come back to me, but the winner doesn’t always drop the ball, so I release the second ball and the run repeats. If Harley has the first ball, he sometimes carries it, and he sometimes drops it near me. They would do this till they keeled over, if I let them. They dive into bushes and creeks. They slide, they twist, and Willa squeals when she doesn’t win.

I try to keep an eye on both balls. Harley gets distracted and will leave the ball behind if we walk on. Willa has a “no ball left behind” ethic and if she drops it somewhere, I can say “where’s your ball” and she will track back, sometimes a quarter of a mile, and return with her prize.

On that lovely Sunday afternoon walk, we stopped at a favorite location between two hills, so they could get a great work out. I heard Harley drop a ball behind me, so I released the second ball and off they went. I looked for the dropped ball, but it was nowhere to be found. I walked the space this way and that, sure that it was there. I tried to use my “soft eyes” because I often find that the ball is right in front of me but I miss it because I am too focused on the big picture.

The dogs returned and I finally decided to give up and move on. Willa had a ball in her mouth, so she was happy. The lost ball wasn’t “her” ball, so she wasn’t concerned. We headed toward the pond to go see what the neighborhood turtles were up to. And that is when I heard my friend’s words in my head – “you are a quitter.” Was I going to give up on that $4.00 ball? “I’m tired and my back hurts and I am ready to be done,” my brain said.

But Willa, my ball seeking force of nature, is not a quitter, and maybe, if I walked back the way we came, she could find it, and that voice would shut-up. I pried the ball she had from her mouth and hid it in my pocket. We trudged up the hill we had just come down, and I said “find the ball Willa.” She started running patterns that were bred into her fiber, embedded in her brain. In under a minute, she proudly charged past me, missing ball in her mouth.

I keep mulling over Willa’s lesson. Her focus and drive are an inspiration that my ADHD/OCD wired brain admires. Harley and Willa, being the majority players, originally set the rules. When a foster shows the drive to join in, one of three things happens. He/she blends in seamlessly, is totally overwhelmed, or starts to bully the original team that set the rules. Isn’t this true of humans too? The original majority established the rules, and we have the choice of joining the fray in harmony, stepping aside, or bullying to get our way and change the rules.

Maybe my choice to quit something on occasion is my way of saying, “I am not playing by your rules. I have set my own rules and I won’t allow you to label me for my decisions. You take the ball if it is so damn important to you. I have other things to do.”

Does that make me a quitter? Or are my choices driven by circumstance and biology? Do I cut my losses because, as a single person, there are only so many things I can accomplish at one time and I recognize my boundaries? Does the majority have any clue how difficult it is to be a single person, especially a single female?

I made my choices and I don’t’ regret my path. I am strong in ways that people with partners will never understand or appreciate. That is OK. You follow your rules and I will hold to mine and survive without your censure.

The purpose of life is for the soul to learn and grow. Every experience is an opportunity to expand understanding. I think the animal and plant kingdom are willing teachers to us simple humans that are willing to look for life lessons.

I don’t know if I am a quitter by definition or not, but the one thing I know is that animals are excellent teachers. Willa taught me a lot by her simple act of retrieving a lost ball. She shows me every day what drive and commitment look like.

My path, in this life, I believe, is to learn about both the freedom and the chains of self-sufficiency. It is scary and exhilarating. Aging is proving terrifying. But Willa, my fearless, brave partner, is offering her gifts and leading the way forward with her indomitable spirit. And even better, she has no interest in the labels us humans seem to deem so important.