Wiggy and Me

by Henry Schulte

Cambria with Wiggy in the lead. Source: henryschultephotography.com

My wife and I took a little weekend trip up the coast to the quaint town of Cambria. She was participating in a country dance program. I was going to spend time with Wiggy – my best friend – my little Westie.

Wiggy attracts attention wherever he goes. Kids and adults alike. Sometimes the most unlikely characters melt when Wiggy loves them like they’ve been best friends forever. I decided to take Wiggy on a walk along the ocean bluff. It was a popular spot with lots of people and lots of dogs. As expected Wiggy received an exorbitant amount of attention.

I spotted this woman off the trail carrying a baby in a backpack. I was going to joke about how she had a monkey on her back. But I paused when I saw her apparent daughter sitting on the bench in tears. Wiggy has a wonderful effect with children so I walked up and asked the girl if she would like to pet Wiggy. She subdued her tears for a moment to pet Wiggy and then started to cry again.

Her mother took that moment to wander off. I must not have appeared a threat. Though not my place, I asked the little girl, age around ten, what was wrong. She said her parents were fighting again and it’s been getting worse. She’s afraid they’re going to break up.

That’s when I noticed the mother approaching a man sitting on the bluff who was waving her off. The mom was trying to engage her husband, but he was having none of it. I turned to the little girl and said, “They’ll fix things up. They always do. Don’t be upset.” But the anguish in the child’s eyes, her sobbing, her fear that her parents may part ways was so powerful.

I had to decide between how much longer I should linger so as not to be seen as a threat, or whether I should attempt to console her a little more. I slowly moved off down the trail, watching the father flailing his arms motioning for the mother to leave.

The little girl approached her mother and wrapped her arms around her leg. Mom embraced her. I could feel the hurt in the young girl, the pain in the mother’s heart. The mom eventually gave up and walked away from her husband, holding her daughter, and carrying the baby on her back.

I knew it wasn’t my place. I knew it could turn ugly, but I wanted to talk with the father. Tell him I’ve been there. My family has been there. My own daughter had been there. It can be fixed. That it’s not about him but about his daughter. I’ve had seventy years of life and was hoping to maybe pass along a smidgeon of knowledge and experience.

I thought it best to allow the father to cool down a little and continued my walk. But I was determined to speak to the man upon my return. However, he was gone by the time I got back. I kicked myself for not doing it right away. I scanned the trail and the distant parking lot to no avail.

My heart ached. I was envisioning the little girl living in a world of uncertainty. Helpless to do anything. Her only wish for her parents to be friends and stay together as a family. I accomplished nothing and was upset that I didn’t act right away. I may have gotten punched for butting in, but I didn’t care about that probability either.

I had my own share of fights with my wife. Loud bouts with her in front of my own kids. I was as guilty as anyone.  Looking back, the fights were stupid. The reasons pointless. And fifty-one years later, none of it mattered the slightest bit.

I’ve seen first-hand what can happen. I’m a product of the destruction of a family. I’m witness to it all around me. For that little girl who understands enough to know if her parents don’t hold it together, it isn’t going to go well for her. She just wants her family.

Their love.

Weekend family walks along the beach.

Years ago, wallowing in self-pity and playing the victim, I always asked myself, “Do you love her?” And every time the answer was an emphatic, “Yes.” That was the force to make the marriage work.

When you’re young(er), egos, stubbornness, the need to prove you’re right stands in the way of rational thinking. The need to look past emotions and deal with life for what it is, difficult. But only as difficult as you make it.

That young family – and family is the key word – need to grasp that holding it together for the long haul, through hard work, is the ticket to happiness. Face the challenges head on to keep the family strong and thereby ensuring a bright future for their children.

Once you lose your family, you’ve lost the most important thing in your life, and you’ll never get it back. I wish I could have told that young father just that much.

I hung my head in disappointment and anger. I wasn’t given the chance to stick my nose where it didn’t belong. And then I stood up and thought, “What if? What if that little girl told her parents that the man with the dog said they would fix things? That all would be okay?” Maybe I could have had an impact. That her parents paused long enough see and feel their daughter’s pain. The glimmer of hope in her eyes.

That small seed of optimism made me feel better. I visualized the young family coming back on the trail again. The girl bounding along. Skipping. All smiles. The mom and dad holding hands and exchanging knowing glances. Both pleased they worked through this latest hiccup.

I grinned and finished my walk with my best friend. I told him he was going to get a hamburger for lunch. He looked up at me with those devoted dark eyes, tail wagging. I think he actually knew what I said.

If humans were only as easy as animals.

Wiggy