“Dogs are our link to paradise.” — Milan Kundera
Sometimes a “little” detail in my day triggers thoughts about my mythic orientation and brings stories to mind.
This episode began with a short news story about a dog. Which led me to a Jicarilla Apache creation myth and an Irish legend about Fionn MacCool.
These stories remind us of the enduring bond between humans and dogs, and what they teach us about loyalty, empathy, and joy. How they help us be better humans. And love.
Transcript of Mythical Bonds: Dogs, Kinship, and the Irish tale of Fionn and the Birth of Bran
Hello, and welcome to Myth Matters, storytelling and conversation about mythology and what myth can offer us today. I’m your host and personal mythologist Dr. Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide, beautiful, crazy world of ours, you are part of this story circle.
There was a story in the news last week about this dog who ended up in an animal shelter in Bellaire, Michigan. Now this dog was picked up somewhere, who knows, he really doesn’t have much of a backstory. Apparently, he scaled a 10 foot chain link fence, then he scaled a six foot solid privacy fence, crossed a highway–this is all in the middle of the night– crossed the highway without getting run over, and he went to a nursing home down the road from the shelter. He entered the automatic doors. Nobody noticed him. He went into the lobby, hopped up onto a couch, curled up into a ball and went to sleep.
The next morning, the staff found him. They called the County Animal Control and the sheriff came and picked up the dog and took him back to the shelter. Well, a couple nights later, the dog did it again. Somehow, again, he managed to get over both of those fences and the highway and he went right back to the nursing home. And again, the staff called the shelter and the sheriff came and he was taken back.
And then a couple nights after that, he did it again. When the staff found him on the couch the third time they decided to adopt him because for some reason, the dog whom they now call “Scout” had decided to make the nursing home, his home. The nursing home administrator Marna Robertson says “I’m a person who looks at outward signs. And if it’s meant to be it’s meant to be. He did that one time, two times three times. And obviously that’s something you should pay attention to. And I asked the staff, well, he wants to be here. Would anybody like to have a dog?”
Well, it turns out that everyone associated with the nursing home, and in particular the residents, are delighted to have Scout there. He wanders the halls; he goes wherever he wants. He visits the residents whenever the mood strikes him. Apparently he learned how to get into their rooms by jumping up and using his paw to pull down on the door handles. And every single one of these people feels that he is their dog.
Scout visits them. He protects them. And using that inner sense that dogs have, he knows who is in need of comfort and he sits with the dying. There are signs that Scout was abused in the past. He’s afraid of loud noises. He is generally cautious about men who don’t live in the nursing home. And he clearly had someone shoot at him because he has BBs lodged in his jowl. And yet despite all of that, this dog has made it his job to take care of these older people. As Robertson says, “he must have just felt like he needed to be here.”
Well, so this is a pretty amazing story, don’t you think? I mean, quite a journey for the dog to make, and the question of why he went there, what drew him? Well, that’s something that in some ways we can’t answer. And yet there are all kinds of clues and ideas hidden in some of our old stories because we have a lot of stories about the long, long history, the long shared history, between humans and dogs.
Clearly, Scout wanted to find a home. He didn’t want to be in the shelter. But he also wanted to be of service. And here we have that animal, natural expression of the reciprocity, and the empathy and the kinship that underlie the workings of our world.
You know, dogs were the first domesticated animals. Our current estimates range from 20,000- 40,000 years ago. We have evolved together, we’ve shaped each other. And this co-evolution is found in some creation myths. Some years ago, I heard a specific creation myth that involved dogs that came immediately to mind when I heard Scout’s story. I heard Brother David Stendhal-Rast tell this story from the Jicarilla Apache about the creation of man and dogs. He has a really insightful commentary about the story so I’ll post the link to that on my Mythic Mojo website in case that’s of interest to you.
According to the story, dog was going around with Creator. Everywhere he went dog went and watched all that he did. When Creator finished one job and moved on to another, the dog went to. “Are you going to stay around here all the time”, said the dog, “or will you have to go away?” “Well, perhaps someday I shall have to live far away” said Creator.
“Then grandfather, will you make me a companion?” the dog asked.
So, Creator lay down on the ground. “Draw a line around me with your paw,” he said. Dog scratched an outline in the earth all around the great Creator. Creator got up and looked at it. “Go a little way off and don’t look,” he said. The dog went off a little way. After a few minutes he looked. “Oh, someone is lying where you are lying grandfather.”
“Go along and don’t look,” said Creator. The dog went a little farther. After a few minutes he looked. “Someone is sitting there, grandfather,” he said. “Turn around and walk farther off,” said Creator. The dog obeyed. At last Creator called the dog. “Now you can look,” he said. grandfather, he moves cried the dog into light. So they stood by the man and looked him over.
“Pretty good,” said Creator. “He’s wonderful,” said the dog. Creator went behind the man and lifted him to his feet. “Put out your foot,” he said .”Walk do this.” So, the man walked. “Now run,” said Creator. So, the man ran. “Say words,” he said, but the man said nothing. Four times a creator told the man to talk. Finally, the man said words. He spoke. “Now shout,” said Creator. He gave a big yell himself and showed the man how. The man shouted.
“What else?” He said. Creator thought a minute. “Laugh,” he said. “Laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh.” And then the man laughed. Dog was very happy when the man laughed. He jumped up on him and ran off a little and ran back and jumped up on him. He kept jumping up on him the way dogs do today when they are full of love and delight. And the man laughed and laughed.
“Now you are fit to live,” said Creator. And the man went off with his dog.
Now as we’ve discussed in the last couple episodes about creation myths, these myths tell us where we came from. But they also tell us why we were created and for whom. And I love this notion that we were created to be companions to dogs. Now the interesting thing about creation myths, they all include a series of events. First you have light and dark, and then you have land and you know, various life forms. And humans generally come last. So, what does this mean?
In some mythologies, like the mythologies of the great monotheisms: Judaism, Christianity, Islam, this has given rise to this idea that there’s a hierarchy of being, that somehow human beings are the culmination of some sort of process. And maybe we are, but then that brings with it this notion that somehow we’re superior, that we are superior to everyone else.
The same series of events can also be seen as a sign about our ability and need to learn from others. In some of these myths, the reason that human beings come last is because the world needs to be prepared for us. And that preparation isn’t a function just of our incredible specialness. In fact, it may not really be a function of our unique specialness so much as it is our dependency on certain conditions and our need to learn from the others. Our tremendous adaptability, which along with imagination probably are the defining characteristics of the human nature, rests in our ability to learn from the others. All of the others, not only the human people, and the way that we have imagined and created culture, and so forth, then ourselves from those imaginings.
So, it’s possible to have respect for difference and recognition of our commonalities at the same time. And this notion of kinship, of this respect and recognition for differences and commonalities, is very different from the kind of sentimentality that is often expressed about animals today, the sort of humanizing of animals that comforts us but doesn’t come from an appreciation of the animal itself, and its own particular nature. I notice that the cultures that tell these stories of the human people being created after the dog people and the turtle people and the milkweed people and, you know, all of the different life forms are peoples of some sort, tend not to be as afraid of the so-called “animal nature” and the so-called “base instincts” as cultures like the one that I’m in and that tend to dominate the world today.
Now, those of us who are living in European-derived cultures are a bit further from our indigenous roots than some other people. And yet, the kind of reciprocity and kinship and learning that I’m talking about is present in stories that are part of our cultural heritage. I want to tell you a story about Fionn MacCool, who was a legendary Irish warrior and hunter, who led a band of Irish warriors known as the Fianna. I found it in Irish Fairy Tales by James Stephens. There is a free online version of the book available via the Gutenberg Project. I will post that link on the Mythic Mojo website if you’d like to check out the rest of the collection. And thank you so much to Cynthia Anderson for initially sharing it with me.
This story comes from that collection, and it’s called “The Birth of Bran.” I invite you to relax and listen to the story. Llet it take you wherever you need to go. And if there is a moment or detail in the story that particularly grabs your attention, let it be important. Let it be an opening for you into some thing that the story may be holding for you right now.
“The Birth of Bran”
So, we know that there are people, there are people who don’t like dogs. And back in this time and this place, there was a man named Fergus who was one of those people. Fergus Fionnliath lived near Galloway. Whenever a dog barked, he would leap out of his seat and throw everything that he owned in the direction of the bark. He gave prizes to servants who disliked dogs. And when he heard that a man had drowned a litter of puppies, he used to go to visit that person and try to marry his daughter.
In this same time in place, there was another man named Fionn, who was the absolute opposite of Fergus as far as dogs were concerned. He delighted in dogs and he knew everything about them, from the setting of the first little white tooth, to the rocking of the last long yellow one. He knew the affections and antipathies which are proper in a dog. The degree of obedience to which dogs may be trained without losing their honorable qualities or becoming servile and suspicious. He knew the hopes that animate them, the apprehensions which tingle in their blood, and all that is to be demanded from or forgiven in dogs, because he loved dogs.
Fionn had 300 dogs, and among them there were two for whom he had a special affection. These two were his daily, and nightly companions, Bran and Sceo’lan. Now, nobody else could understand why these two dogs in particular out of all dogs, had captured his heart, but Fionn would never be separated from them.
Now Fionn, our incredible dog lover, had a very beautiful and noble sister named Tuiren. Tuiren was the kind of woman that everyone wanted to be near. And this was a good news and bad news because the men that were already married grew moody and downcast because they couldn’t hope to marry her, and all of the bachelors in the area were kind of jealous and jostling with each other.
Tuiren herself, fell in love with a man named Iollan, from Ulster and Iollan wanted to marry her. Now Fionn. he didn’t really dislike Iollan. But either he knew him too well, or he didn’t know him well enough, because he made a stipulation before he agreed to the marriage. Her made the man promise that if his sister was ever unhappy, that he would bring her back home to her brother, immediately. And the man Iollan agreed to do this.
After the wedding, the couple went back to Ulster and they live together very happily for a time. But everything in life changes. And sometimes things that have happened in the past have to be dealt with. And in this was the case with Iollan. He had a past. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but he simply thought that it was finished. And as it turns out, he was wrong about that.
Iollan had been in love with a fairy lady named Uct Dealv. They were sweethearts for years before he met Fionn’s sister Tuiren. He often went to the fairy mounds where they met and spent delightful days together. Uct Dealv called hi, her lover, her pulse and her one treasure.
This was not unusual. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unusual for there to be love relationships between fairy women and mortal men. But a lot of the other fairies were a little bit dubious about Iollan and which direction this relationship was going to go. Uct Dealv for her part was very confident about his love. She defended him, so it was especially surprising and bitter for her to receive news of his marriage to Tuiren. When Uct Dealv heard that news, her heart stopped beating for a moment and she closed her eyes. And some of the other fairy women said “well, so now you see, that is how long the love of a mortal lasts.”
Well, Uct Dealv was filled with such rage and jealousy and despair. It was beyond anything that anyone had ever heard of. And as we know, jealousy and rage, they are very difficult emotions to control. And she determined that the woman who had supplanted her in Iollan’s affections would rue the day that she did. She brooded revenge in her heart. And at last, she had a plan.
Uct Dealv understood the arts of magic and shape changing. She changed her shape into that of brother Fionn’s female messenger. This messenger was the best-known woman in Ireland. She went out from the fairy land, came into our human world, and visited Iollan.
Of course, Iollan knew the appearance of Fionn’s messenger. He was surprised to see her. “What brings you here, dear heart?” he asked. “I come from Fionn,” she said. And she told Iollan that the brother was planning a visit. And she said, “I also have messages for your queen.”
Uct Dealv in the form of the messenger met with Tuiren and the two of them went for a little walk away from the house. They hadn’t gone far when Uct Dealv drew a hazel rod out from beneath her cloak, struck the queen on the shoulder. Instantly, Tuiren began trembling and quivering and she changed into a hound dog. She shivered with terror and amazement. Uct Dealv, on the other hand, felt absolutely no remorse. She put a chain around the hound dog’s neck and set off to the house of Fergus, the man who hated dogs.
This was the home that Uct Dealv wanted for her rival, the worst home that she could possibly find for a dog in the whole world. As they walked along Uct Dealv described the future that she had in mind for Turien the hound dog. “You have married my sweetheart,” she said, “and I am taking you to the home of Fergus Fionnliath. Have you ever heard of them, the man who does not like dogs?” And Tuiren had indeed heard of him. “He will throw stones at you,” she said. “You will never have a peaceful moment. You will be whipped. You will be yelled at, you will starve, you will suffer in ways that you have never suffered before.”
When they came to Fergus’s house, Uct Dealv still in the form of the messenger, demanded admittance. The servant at the door said “Well, you’re going to have to leave that dog outside.” “Well, I’m not going to do that.” said the pretend messenger. “Well, you can come in without the dog or you can stay out with the dog,” said the servant, “but you can’t bring the dog into this house.” ” I’m going to have to come in with his dog or your master shall answer for it to Fionn.”
Well, when the servant heard the name Fionn he knew something was up. He went to his master Fergus and said, “Fionn’s messenger is at your door with a dog.” “Go away, kill the dog, and then we’ll see about the messenger.” “Well, unfortunately, I think there’s a message from Fionn” said the servant. So, this went back and forth and back and forth and finally the messenger said to the servant, “You go tell your master Fergus that Fionn has sent this dog expressly to him to take care of. And if he refuses, well, he’s going to have to deal with Fionn.”
When Fergus heard this, he said, “Oh, my gosh, what is he doing? He knows how I feel about dogs. And if I could refuse anything to Fionn, it would be a dog. But since I can’t refuse anything to Fionn, give me the hound dog.” So Uct Dealv left Tuiren the hound dog with Fergus. She went away well satisfied that she would have her revenge.
As for Tuiren the dog, she shivered and trembled, and shivered and trembled, and shivered and trembled. The following day, Fergus called for his servant and said, “Has that dog stopped shivering yet?” “It has not sir,” said the servant. “Well, bring the beast in here,” said his master, “whoever else is dissatisfied, Fionn can’t be one of them. We’re going to have to do something to take care of this dog.” They both looked at the dog who shivered, and shivered, and shook.
“How do you cure the shivers?” Fergus asked his servant, because he thought, you know, we’ve got to do something to calm this dog down to make Fionn happy. “Well, there is a way,” said the servant. “Well, if there’s a way tell it to me,” said Fergus. “Well, if you were to take the beast up in your arms and hug it and kiss it, the shivers would stop,” said the man. “Do you mean….” Fergus thundered. “Yes,” said the servant, “I do” “Well, you do it ,”said Fergus, “you take up that dog and hug it and kiss it and if I find a single shiver left in the beast, I’ll break your head.”
Well, the man bent down to the hound but it snapped a piece out of his hand and nearly bit his nose off as well. “That dog doesn’t like me,” said the man. “Oh, get out of my sight,” roared Fergus.
The servant went away and Fergus was left alone with the hound dog. The creature was so terrified now that it was shaking even worse than ever.” Its legs are going to drop off” said Fergus, “and Fionn will blame me.” He walked over to the dog. “If you snap at my nose, if you put as much as the start of a tooth into the beginning of a finger…” he warned, and he picked up the dog and the dog didn’t snap at him. It only trembled. He held the dog gingerly for a few moments.
“Well,” Fergus said, “if it has to be hugged. I’ll hug it. I do more than that for Fionn.” He tucked and tightened the animal into his breast and marched moodily up and down the room. The dog’s nose lay along his breast under his chin. He gave it dutiful hugs. One hug to every five paces. The dog put out its tongue and licked him timidly under the chin. “Stop,” roared Fergus, “stop that forever.” And he grew very red in the face. But when he looked down and he saw the soft brown eyes looking up at him again, he let that shy tongue kiss him once more
He bent his head. He shut his eyes and brought the dog’s jaw against his lips. And at that the dog gave little wriggles and little barks and little licks so that he could hardly hold her. He put the dog down and all the shivering had stopped. Everywhere Fergus walked the dog followed him, giving little prances and little pats against him. And he marveled. “That dog likes me,” he murmured in amazement, “and by my hand, I like that dog.”
The next day, he was calling her “my one treasure, my little branch,” and within a week, Fergus could not bear for the dog to be out of his sight for an instant. He told everyone that the hound was the queen of creatures. And he warned them that a person who so much as looked at her sideways would answer for the deed.
Well, it was only a matter of time before the news came to Fionn that his sister was not living with Iollan. He sent a messenger right away, saying, “hey, what about the pledge that you’ve made? I want you to send Tuiren back immediately.” Iollan was in pretty sad condition when this demand was made, because he had no idea what had happened to his wife. He hadn’t seen her. He didn’t know where she was. But he suspected that it was Uct Dealv, his former fairy lover, who’d had a hand in the whole thing.
It was difficult to get Uct Dealv to agree to meet with him but finally she did. “Ah,” she said when she greeted him, “There he is the breaker of vows and traitor to love.”” I’m sorry,” said Iollan, “I’m in danger.” “Why should I care about that?” she said,. “Well, Fionn is going to claim my head,” he said, “Well, that’s not my problem,” said Uct Dealv. “Well, I don’t know. But maybe if you hear the story.”
Well, she agreed to listen to the story. He told her and he said, “I’m sure that you have hidden the girl.” “Well,” said Uct Dealv , “if I save your head from Fionn, then your head is going to belong to me.” “Okay,” said Iollan. “And if your head is mine, the body that goes under it is mine. Do you agree to that?” “I do,” said Iollan. “Ggive me your pledge,” said Uct Dealv, “and I will save you from this, but I will be your sweetheart until the end of your life.” And Iollan agreed.
Uct Dealv went to the home of Fergus and she broke the enchantment on Tuiren. Tuiren went from being a hound dog back to being a human woman. But it turned out that while she was a dog, Tuiren had given birth to two small pups and these stayed in the form of dogs. These were Bran and Sceo’lan, who were sent to Fionn and became those two dogs out of his hundreds of dogs that he especially loved. They were loyal and affectionate as only dogs can be. They were as intelligent as human beings. And they were Fionn’s cousins.
Tuiren was married to a local man who had loved her for many years. And everyone in Fionn’s circle was quite happy. But what about Fergus?
Well, when Fergus lost his dog, he took to his bed and stayed there for a for a year and a day, suffering from that lost affection. He would have died in bed but Fionn sent him a special pup. In a week that young hound became the star of fortune and the very pulse of his heart. Fergus got well again, and he also lived happily ever after.
I have a great poem about a dog by Mary Oliver that I want to share with you before we part ways. First of all, I want to invite you to join me for my online two-week story work course called Step into the Fairy Glen. It’s designed to help you tap the power of story to live your symbolic life. If you’re looking for a new vision, a creative boost or a different conversation with your deep self, I hope you’ll consider joining me. It will begin on October 14th and ends on October 28 with the full moon.
I will be posting details and registration information later this month on my website. A reminder to those of you who have joined me for this course before, you can step into the Fairy Glen once again this year for free.
A big welcome to new email subscribers: Meadowbelle, Steve, Jim, Brie, William, John, Kevin, Bruce, and Sarah. Welcome to Myth Matters! If you’re new to Myth Matters or if you haven’t been to the website lately, I invite you to head over to the Mythic Mojo website. You’ll find a transcript of this episode, you can get on the email list, and as I mentioned, this is where information about my other offerings like Step Into the Fairy Glen are posted.
A big thank you to the Patreon patrons and Bandcamp supporters of Myth Matters. If you are finding something of value here in the podcast, I hope that you will consider joining me on Patreon. Those few dollars a month from you make a very big difference for me.
And now in closing, a poem by Mary Oliver, titled “Luke.”
“LUKE” by Mary Oliver, from Dog Songs
I had a dog
who loved flowers.
Briskly she went
through the fields,
yet paused
for the honeysuckle
or the rose,
her dark head
and her wet nose
touching
the face
of every one
with its petals
of silk,
with its fragrance
rising
into the air
where the bees,
their bodies
heavy with pollen,
hovered—
and easily
she adored
every blossom,
not in the serious,
careful way
that we choose
this blossom or that blossom—
the way we praise or don’t praise—
the way we love
or don’t love—
but the way
we long to be—
that happy
in the heaven of earth—
that wild, that loving.
That wild, that loving— of the many things that we can learn from dogs, perhaps this is the most precious.
If we have a better understanding of our need for myth, and all that our old stories offer, we can live more satisfying lives. We can inhabit a better story and create a more beautiful, just and sustainable world.
Feel free to email me in response to this episode or post a comment on the Mythic Mojo website. If you have questions about mythology, I’ll do my best to answer them.
And that’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Thank you so much for listening. Take good care of yourself and until next time, keep the mystery in your life alive.
Links:
Views of the Cosmos by Brother David Steindl-Rast O. S. B
Irish Fairy Tales by James Stephens with illustrations by Arthur Rackham
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