Who among us hasn’t had this happen?
You set up a meeting with a friend, a date or a colleague. You plan to connect for a movie, dinner, coffee.
And then–twelve minutes before Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3 is about to start, you receive a text: Sorry, Ric, my daughter dropped by unexpectedly and it’s a crisis. Gotta reschedule.
Or, maybe, even worse: you’re there at Planta, sipping on a latte and glancing compulsively at the door for your date to arrive. The appointed time comes and goes. . . no curly-brown-hair-in-a-grey-leather-jacket anywhere in sight. This time, they don’t text at all; they simply don’t show up. Your concerned text goes unanswered. No word at all.
I have to admit, this twenty-first century concept of “ghosting” came as a complete shock to me when I first encountered it.
In my day, if you agreed to meet someone, you moved heaven and earth to get there–on time–no matter what. Like, if you were involved in a seven-car crash on the freeway and immobilized while waiting for the ambulance, you called to say you might be a bit late (or asked that nice paramedic to call on your behalf after he loaded you into the ambulance).
Another friend invites you to a concert the same night as your “classic movie” date with a friend? That’s unfortunate, sweetie, but you already promised, so it looks like you’ll be watching The Notebook instead of listening to Alicia Keys that evening.
You get asked to dinner at The French Laundry when you already have a second date set with that so-so guy from work? Suck it up, buttercup. Let Mr. Dreamboat know you’re busy, ask for a raincheck, and go meet Mr. Mediocre at the local Tex-Mex joint as planned.
You’ve got an important deadline on the same day you agreed to meet with an old co-worker who’s breezing through town? Tough cookies, chica, go anyway. Catch up with your colleague and then head home to work late so you can meet the deadline.
Do I exaggerate? Well, only a tiny bit. Because that’s what we did back in my day. (You know, that same “day” when we didn’t own a cell phone, the same day we walked a mile in the snow to school, and the same day we kept our commitments).
I had a conversation with a colleague a couple of months ago. She told me about how someone had ghosted her–ostensibly dropped off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again. Entreaties didn’t make a dent. No word. I commiserated. She and I made plans. And then. . .
I didn’t hear from her again.
When did people become so willing to let others down? When did one’s promise lose its immutability? When did we all favor our immediate gratification over someone else’s trust that we’d be true to our word?
All I can tell you is: dogs don’t do that.
Dogs show up when you expect them to. They are consistent in their actions, their love toward you, their glee at being able to go outside and play. Yes, dogs are both creatures of habit and also creatures of conditioning, so it’s no wonder they’re so consistent and reliable. Still, it’s not rocket science. People have the ability to learn to be this way, too.
For instance, I can count on Zoey to gently lay her head on my thigh as I sit at my desk every single day at 2:30 PM (unless it’s the weekend, and we’re already playing at something else).
Her particular “let me inside!” bark at the back door, a quick explosion like the branch of an oak tree snapping in a thunderstorm, occurs on cue each morning when she calls to be let inside to consume her breakfast.
And like clockwork every evening, Zoey slinks from her pillow to the “sleeping spot” beside the HH’s side of the bed, precisely as I slide under the sheets and pull the covers up over my head for sleep.
Another, critical, form of reliability we expect from dogs is that they listen, especially when it’s a matter of life and death, such as crossing the street.
With our two previous girls, Elsie and Chaser, I had absolute confidence they’d never leave the sidewalk without my permission. True, it took weeks of consistent training, but the results were worth it.
Both off leash and inches from the road. . . no problem.
Zoey, who was trained during Covid (and therefore had two opposing styles supposedly “training” her), is a loose cannon in that regard. As a result, she’s never allowed off leash except in enclosed areas.
Zoey is still learning to be reliable.
Which brings us back to people. Can you count on your humans? Do you have people in your life whom you know to be consistently reliable, do what they say they’ll do, fulfill their promises, be there for you when you call?
When you make plans with someone, are you confident they’ll show up? Are there people to whom you’d lend money, knowing instinctively you don’t need to worry about repayment?
All too often, sadly, the answer to those questions for many of us is “no.”
In this area, I believe, we can only be responsible to ourselves. I try to be as reliable as possible with others in my life and hope they’ll follow suit. On the other hand, if I’m let down one too many times, I figure it may be time to end the relationship–or, at least, take a break. (But don’t worry, I won’t ghost; I always express my intention first).
Have you thought about your own level of reliability and whether it matters to you? Does it bother you when others aren’t reliable? Perhaps it’s worth a little thought this week so we can all bust the ghosting trend going forward.
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Follow up to last week’s challenge: Ask for help when you need it
For me, my bout with Covid was the perfect situation to exercise the “ask for help” rule. Unable to do very much for eight full days, I had no problem relying on the HH for tea, water, an extra blanket–basically, whatever was needed to ensure I could sleep, stay hydrated, and recover.
But that’s kind of cheating, isn’t it? I mean, most of us feel comfortable asking our spouse for help when we need it. If you can’t ask the person with whom you’ve been living for 26 years to give you a hand up when you need it, who can you really ask?
So I was proud of myself that I accepted help from a friend who offered to bring over some soup. I know, technically, I didn’t “ask” since she offered first, but even that step was a big one for me.
One of the consequences of illness that was made obvious, too, is how far we all live from each other. While several people asked what they could do to help, knowing that they were each almost an hour away was a clear reminder that more immediate help wasn’t available. I wondered for how many people this is true these days–so many of our connections are online, and it becomes more and more difficult to connect in person.
Like Chaser, asking for help requires getting over yourself–and also trusting another person to provide without requiring anything in return. It can be a tough call.
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As always, thank you for reading. If you enjoy Be the Dog, please share it with someone else! Or support me and my writing with a paid or free subscription. I’d be eternally grateful either way.
Well my two backpacker dogs ghosted me. I had two awesome dogs, loyal buddies, that backpacked with me all over the west. One trip I brought along some boyscouts who were faster, at first, than I. And those two traitors ditched me! Later, as the pubescent vigor faded, I overtook those kids and my dogs were with me once more. I realized they only wanted to be up at the front. They did it every trip thereafter when someone other than me took the lead. But I had the treats and they sure knew what tent to sleep in.
I read this and feel seen, thank you! Relationships are about reciprocity - for this we need accountability and trust and the ability to have open conversations and feel safe. Sadly, this is very lacking … grateful to know you and to be able to read your expressions.