It occurred to me today that there’s been too much unleashing going on.

I heard a friend the other day, speaking to a group of people, mistakenly use the word ‘unleash’, when it was obvious by the context of what he was saying that he meant to say ‘leash’. It got me to thinking about our default toward unleashing things. I was pretty sure that he made the mistake in his spoken word choice because we probably use the word ‘unleash’ more than we use the word ‘leash’. Am I wrong?

Certainly, as verbs, ‘unleash’ gets used more than ‘leash’. The contest between the two words –which one gets used more often in casual conversation– would only be a close competition if ‘leash’ got to include his noun variant –> as in, “take the dog for a walk on its leash”. ‘Leash’ as a verb, which would mean to put something under control, and ‘leash’ as a noun, which would mean the cable, cord, or rope by which someone might leash something; those two could gang up on ‘unleash’, all by its little lonesome verb self and make a decent battle of things.

In the end though, I think ‘unleash’ might win. I think ‘unleash’ has got a little spunk to… well… unleash.

I couldn’t resist.

But, my point here isn’t to theorize about why we use one word more often in conversation –> at least, that’s not my whole point.

* * *

I have a dog named Spike. As mean and fearsome as that might sound, Spike is mostly a sweetheart. He loves to greet people when they come to our home, usually through some excessive sniffing of them and their clothes, he enjoys peeing on things in our neighborhood when we take him for walks here and there; he’s pretty much a normal dog. He has always been loyal and kind to all of the members of our family; he even puts up with the cats that the girls brought home several years back.

I’ve only had one opportunity to see my dog in the midst of what I would have characterized as wild behavior –and I don’t mean having too much to drink and then taking your top off.

During a walk around the neighborhood, many years ago, Spike and I happened upon a stray dog. This isn’t supposed to happen in town, since I believe there to be a leash ordinance in my neck of the woods. Nevertheless, there it was. It made its way toward us, in a bit of a playful trot, and I was frantically looking around for some owner somewhere, holding onto a leash that would certainly have no dog at the end of it because that owner’s dog was making its way toward me and my dog.

I didn’t see any owner.

What I saw was this dog getting closer and closer to Spike and I. Come to think of it, I’m not sure why I didn’t drag Spike back home with me, in retreat, but I didn’t. We kind of just stood there, my dog and I, bracing for impact.

Then, as the stray got close enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck, Spike started this low growl that I’d not heard from my dog before that day, and I’ve not heard from him since. It was a growl that I think my dog must reserve for the exceedingly rare times when he knows that something is about to go down.

Initially, the stray seemed to have come up to Spike to sniff him, for that was what it started immediately doing. But, that only lasted for a moment or two. Then, they were on each other. Spike was being bitten on his side by this stray and Spike was returning fire on the stray’s head and neck. All of this while I was trying to pull Spike away and while I was also trying to get my foot or leg in edgewise to separate the two dogs from each other. Spike was easily the smaller of the two dogs, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell by his level of fighting fervor.

And while I was totally preoccupied with the fight going on and whether or not either of these two were going to end up seriously hurting each other, the owner of the stray made his way up to us, to lend his hand in getting control of his fifty percent of this entanglement. With the two of us humans on the case, separating the two dogs from each other was simple work.

I don’t remember what that man said, other than it was a slew of apologies and regrets; I wasn’t really listening to him. In my head, in that place where I go when I have thoughts that override what it is that the people around me are saying, in that place, I was all alone and I was screaming, as loudly as I could…

WHY WASN’T YOUR DOG ON HIS LEASH?!?!?!?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!

Spike ended up being okay. There wasn’t any serious damage to either of the dogs, not that either of their owners could determine. Not that I would have cared if that man’s dog had taken some damage in the fight; after all, my dog was just defending himself from a menace.

Right?

* * *

If my assertion, in the opening section of the piece, that ‘unleash’ is primarily a verb, is true –> the question becomes, “Why are we using the word ‘unleash’ as often as we do?” What is it in the world that we are suggesting, so much and so often, needs to have its leash removed?

Think about it. It’s us.

Don’t believe me?!?!

I could show you the Pinterest board that I have for running inspiration, and then you can pay me a dollar for every time you see the word ‘unleash’ on one of those inspirational posters. Do you want to do that with me? We could make a game out of it?

No?

So, if we’re not in the practice of telling people to release their pets so that they might freely roam around the neighborhoods of our fair country, picking fights with other pets, but we are in the practice of encouraging each other to ‘unleash’ whatever part it is of ourselves that has been locked up unjustly, I’m just wondering about the inconsistency that’s inherent in this juxtaposition.

And if you’re thinking about telling me that animals are animals and people are people, save your breath: I’ve seen too many animals masquerading as people to think much of your attempts to draw a clear line between the two.

As a matter of fact, I know I’ve been off of my leash a time of two.

Maybe part of our problem is that, in a contest between words –which one gets used more often in casual conversation– it’s close, when it shouldn’t be that close at all.

How about you control yourself and I’ll control myself, and we can all keep our dogs on their leashes.