Farewell 2015, Hello 2016

Another year draws down to its final hours. Soon, 2015 will be another for the history books. Can’t say, though, that I’m sorry to see this one go. In the measure of calendar years, 2015 was one of the hardest in my adult life. It began with conflict; it ends having seen some very difficult, very deeply-felt losses. I won’t deny there were some highs in 2015 as well, or that I was fortunate enough to be part of things that are truly wonderful and that I got to meet some awesome new friends along the way while enjoying time with old ones.

 

I had to say farewell to my younger brother, so suddenly gone from this world. For all our differences and disagreements, for all those fights that only brothers can get into, I miss him. Fortunately, the good memories far outnumber the bad, and those are what I carry with me into the new year. However, I also carry some poignant lessons, and the one I’ll share here is this: Don’t put off time with family. If I hadn’t listened to my mom and my husband and agreed to a short visit to upstate NY in July, I would have missed one last visit with my brother. One month later, he was gone.

It’s somehow ironic that in that last conversation, he said something that turned out to be what I needed to begin the slow healing from a loss that preceded his passing. However, that earlier loss – and a third that came later – I haven’t talked about openly. Much of it I still won’t.

I spent a lot of this past year in quiet inner turmoil (and, yes, sometimes it was neither entirely quiet nor inward, but I’m human and sometimes our emotions get the best of us). Time spent blaming myself; time lost to anger and hurt. Time spent trying to comprehend things that happened; time lost to believing I wasn’t good enough. Time spent realizing mistakes I’ve made; time lost to recognizing not all the mistakes made were mine.

I’m not ashamed to admit I reached a point where I felt completely beaten. I just wanted to pull away from everything. Just crawl into my cage and lick my wounds. In retrospect, I see that, to some degree, I did pull away. I know now that I had to.

It was the only way I could hear that quiet bark still inside, one I’d forgotten how to hear. It was the only way I could find what my brother was reminding me of; the only way I could see again that lesson in balance that a particular young man has a way of showing me. It was the only way I could find within that strength to stand up again, to begin believing in myself again, and to see past the shadows to all those positive things which brighten my life. Maybe I was beaten – that doesn’t mean I was defeated.

How could I be? This year I became an executive producer of the International Puppy Contest. I got to be part of community pack history as IPC got the first female pup titleholder (yay Incus!). One of my own dreams came to fruition with the first Mid-Atlantic Puppy & Handler Contest. I was nominated for this region’s Pantheon of Leather award (well deserved, Todd!).

More than that, though, my husband, my family (bio and chosen) and my friends with whom I have shared so much – and will still share so much. Even through all that darkness, I never forgot you were all there, and you all helped me through it. Through all of you, I found my way back. And for that, there are not enough words to express how grateful I feel.

It's not all ended yet, I know that. But I know it's not all darkness and struggle now. It's accepting what is, learning from it, and moving forward. 2016 is going to have some rough spots. But, ya know, overall it’s looking pretty good.

So, to 2015, I'll borrow the title of the last episode of MASH: Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen.

to 2016: Here's to another 365 days of things to learn. 365 days of fun with friends and family. 365 days of living life to the fullest.

Happy New Year to All of You!

Applying a Lesson in Progress...

I want to start off by apologizing for letting things slide with the Pupping Out Project since this past summer. I had hoped and intended to launch a new series of interviews with interested pups and handlers that could be shared with the community, an initiative that will span several months and hopefully get a lot of personal stories out there.  At first I was kind of embarrassed that I’d let things slide so much. Yes, real-life needs and circumstances demanded a lot of time and attention. Still, though, I felt like I was failing in something that’s actually very important to me. And, in that light, I wasn’t sure how to re-ignite it.

But, then, I realized that something was happening that is actually very prevalent to what the Pupping Out Project was created for: sharing our experiences so that they might help someone else out there. This isn’t a “coming out of the kennel” experience. I’ve shared my own story on that already. However, it is one I know I’m not alone in experiencing; a difficulty that I’ve personally heard other pups talk about.

I had lost that feeling of connection to my inner pup. I don’t know how or when it began to happen. Likely, I never will. Somehow though, I started to become afraid of going to that place within where once I needed no coaxing at all to reach. It was only through a storm of change that I even began to realize I felt it was missing, that I’d cut myself off from it. Without it, I wasn’t centered or balanced mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Without it, I was trying to hobble forward on one leg as if I still had two. In that light, it’s really no wonder that I wasn’t getting very far.

The only reason I didn’t fall flat on my snout is that I was never really alone. And, while that’s another story, how important it is to this one cannot be understated. I say that because part of the realization came through those I call friends and family, some of whom I’m connected to more via social media than through in-person contact.

Yet now, as it reawakens, I feel more like the playful pup, more like the person who knows he’s part of something greater than himself. I’m beginning to feel centered again. I’ve actually begun to understand even better what being a pup means to me. It’s not the sum total of who or what I am as a person; it’s far more a part of my core that I realized, touching many aspects of my daily life.

I appreciate better the nature of that inner pup: a service Alpha pup. Maybe it’s odd that I would lose sight of that. It’s where my journey as a pup began (well, not necessarily an alpha, but definitely a service pup). By the same token, though, that nature has grown. In the past, it was in service to my former Mister. Today, I’m a stray, but the potential for fulfillment as a service pup is no less. In the past, I explored my dominant side. Today, I’m learning that it was never about trying to separate the pup and that dominant-oriented energy, but rather allowing it all to meld together. Then and now, it wasn’t supposed to be about extremes, but accepting it all as part of the whole package.

It’s been learning that, while in everything I do I try to give my best, the best I have to give comes when I’m connected to and grounded by that inner pup.

A Thought for Thanksgiving

“So, what are you thankful for this year?”

I have to be honest, that question has kind of thrown me this year. It isn’t that I’m an ingrate, or that life hasn’t brought me things for which I should be grateful. Overall, my life is pretty rich, and I’m thankful for all that has made it that way. At the risk of sounding like I’m spouting platitudes, I am grateful beyond words to still be with my wonderful husband, that I have a warm and caring family, that I have a job and my health, that I have been given opportunities to serve and be part of the community. Words can’t adequately express how lucky I feel for all of that.

Yet, I’d be remiss if I didn’t reflect another way as well. This year, particularly the second half of it, has been a time of some deeply-felt loss. Two collars given by me with love sit now in my drawer. I had to bid farewell to my younger brother, gone suddenly from this world. A lot over a relatively short period of time. I don’t pretend to believe I’ve bounced all the way back; the scars and the sadness are still fairly fresh. Yes, I pulled back from many things for a time recently. Sometimes, it’s just what has to be done, the only thing that can be done, to again move forward.

What does this have to do with being grateful? Am I grateful for the actual loss? Of course not.

I’m VERY grateful I listened to my Mom and to my husband, who talked me into a summer trip to upstate NY – it turned out to be the last time I saw Bobby before he passed. Something I haven’t shared with anyone, though, was that he looked right at me and said, “You’re not very happy.” He didn’t ask why; I told him only a little. Once he knew things were fine between me and Ken, he just shrugged and said to just bark, that I’d feel better.

I didn’t realize it then, but he was reminding me of what I needed to remember. It wasn’t until after he was gone that I really reflected on that and so many other things. Maybe he saw what I wasn’t seeing; that I’d lost my center. That one comment, made playfully and maybe even a little off-handedly, ended up resonating deeply, and I’ve thought on it quite a bit since then.

Meaning to or not, he pointed me toward embracing that one part I needed to re-embrace, the part I was always afraid to embrace when things got dark. And, while it took me a while to understand that, now I get it.

And, now, the next part of the journey begins. Where at first I thought it a retreating or going back, I see now it's a re-awakening to something new yet familiar...

Bobby, I probably didn’t say thank you enough. And sometimes you didn’t hear me when I did. Wherever you are now, though, I know you can hear this one: THANK YOU!

*BARK*

Harvesting the Soul at Mabon

While this Sabbat of Mabon denotes the start of the harvest, It's also symbolic of clearing the fields in preparation of the Spring planting to come. So, in that spirit, I can only reap what has sprung from the seeds I planted and hope that the intentions in the seeds I am about to plant anew fare better in the future.

From my very earliest days in this community, I've always felt it was home. Here I found a place where I could belong; a place where I can be me and explore the potentials and possibilities of what may come from that. I found, not just friends, but family and kindred spirits. People who accepted me and encourage me to accept myself and to embrace those things that make me different. People with whom I could celebrate those differences rather than be ashamed of them.

From the very beginning I've been fortunate enough to have wise and caring people to teach me those things that have come before while encouraging me to balance those things with new ideas. Friends and mentors who have, time and again, encouraged me to walk and to share my own journey, to have faith that it's leading me to where I'm meant to be. No matter who I met or where I went, I found there was always something for me to learn, something new to experience.

I'm not sure I could ever fully quantify all that I've been given over the years. These gifts are greater than anything I've ever known, gifts beyond price and far more than I would have ever expected when first I ventured into the community. My journey has been made possible through these gifts. It means far, far more than I can say, and all the gratitude I feel in my heart seems still insufficient to do it all justice. Nevertheless, I am immensely grateful for all I have been given, all I've found, and for all the things in which I've been fortunate enough to share.

I learned long ago that the best things come about when it's a collective effort. One alone can never accomplish as much as a team or club or group working together. I've been fortunate enough to be a part of clubs and groups that have brought forth amazing things for the community. Nearly all of my greatest joy has been working with others toward a common goal; my greatest rewards seeing others enjoy what the group put together. What better feeling than to celebrate a job well done with friends and brothers?

While growing up, I was taught that the most important gesture of gratitude is in sharing what you've been given. To say "thank you" for a gift, while heartfelt, may fall flat. But to take what's been given and to share it or to pay it forward, that shows true appreciation. A gift kept to one's self does little more than collect dust on a shelf. A gift shared with others and, in its time passed on to others, keeps its luster and brings joy to more than just one.

That is how I've tried to carry myself since finding a place in this community. From very early on I've tried and endeavored to share all that I've been given. From slave to leatherboy to pup, from sub to switch, it has always been to me about giving back. Every gesture and thing shared with me, I've believed I've been grateful to received it. Every door that was opened, every opportunity given, I've always thought it important to make sure those are paid forward. I've always tried to put my best foot forward and to give things my best. Those things into which I put my energy and effort weren't meant for me, but to give something to others. At the end of each day, it wasn't about the kudos (which were nice and encouraging, don't get me wrong) but seeing that others had found something in which they found enjoyment or connection or maybe even a better glimpse of themselves. No matter what was at hand, I've always tried to do the right thing, to do whatever brings the best benefit to the most people.

I don't claim to be perfect, though. I'm human and, being human, I make mistakes. Sometimes my judgment has been off; sometimes I got caught in the moment. Sometimes I reacted before I thought it through and so let my feelings get in the way of what I was trying to accomplish, or worse, didn't think things through enough. Sometimes I took on too much and came close to burning myself out. Sometimes I fell short of the mark in what was needed to get a job done. Sometimes I stepped out on the wrong foot; sometimes my best wasn't enough or I could have done better. There are still bootprints on my backside from where I got a much-needed kick in the complacency. I try to own my flaws and shortcomings and to learn from my mistakes.  

Through all of it, though, my intent and goal has always been to support the community and the people in it, to put energy and time into those things that better the whole, and to give to the people in it as best I can. My grandfather once told me to set as a goal how I want to be remembered in life and then live my life toward that goal. That's the one I work toward.

One thing I NEVER intended is that anyone should feel hurt or offended by anything I've done, be it through action or inaction. There is room enough in this community for all to shine, for all to find their place. And, if by action or inaction I somehow left someone feeling otherwise, then I failed. It's not how it's supposed to be; it's not what I was taught. Somehow, somewhere, I failed to give back what has been given me. I fell short of what it is I work so hard to accomplish.


But, just as mere words cannot fully express the true depth of gratitude, neither can they fully express how deeply sorry I am for any hurt feelings. As the best way to show gratitude is through action, then by action I must likewise show my sincerity and resolve to redress any wrongs that happened along the way. I can only own the mistakes I've made, try to my utmost to correct what can be corrected, and make sure I'm mindful enough to not repeat them.

I'm no one special. I'm just one pup in a pack of many, one soul in a community of many good ones. Just one who wants to keep giving back all he's been given along the way. In this season of harvest, the bitter grain has to be reaped along with the sweet. In its place I want to plant new seeds that are the lessons that I'm learning.

...And Sir as Well

Elsewhere I've previously related my experiences from my beginnings as a leatherboy through, not just my coming out of the kennel, but as a pup overall. I've captured how intense and rewarding (and occasionally saddening) the journey has been, and I look forward to what has yet to unfold. However, there is one part of that journey I haven't said much about. That's the transition I made from leatherboy to Sir. It's a transition that happened even as I grew as a pup, and continues to the present where I'm both.

Probably one of the most awkward personal questions I ever get asked is "Do I address you as Sir or do I call you Pup?" One thing that eases some of that awkwardness is that I don't expect anyone other than my boys to address me as Sir. Nevertheless, even though the reasons for asking are sincere and well-intended, it can still feel a little awkward.

 

There are a lot of feelings and struggles on this that I've never really shared. I've never been ashamed of any part of my identity as a leatherman or pup. But, there have been times when I've thought it would have been easier to be one or the other, either just a submissive pup or a Sir with boys under collar. I'm proud to be a pup, and I'm proud to be Sir to my boys. Yet, there have been times when I feel caught between the two.

 

As we so often are reminded, we live in a community with labels and identifiers. Being human, we often try to peg people into these boxes. Not necessarily out of malice or judgmentalism, but rather simply on the basis of interacting with unknowns via the barest minimum definitions. For most, it's a simple, innocent matter of comfort in how to approach people. None of us want to mistakenly approach someone as X, when they may be A or B. In the leather and kink community, where people take labels onto themselves, it takes on the added dimension, more often than not, of simply trying to be respectful.

However, over time, some of these boxes and definitions have, for reasons I still don't entirely fathom, become seen as contradictory to one another or seen as not fitting in at all. To be seen as a pup, which many still equate with being submissive, as well as a Sir runs contrary to many.

It hasn't been an easy transition; at times it's been downright confusing to me. Confusing because, even as an acknowledged Sir (and, by that, I mean acknowledged by others), I'm still Pup Tripp. Regardless of the role I have in my leather family, my inner pup and my need to be a pup haven't changed. Time and time again, people will approach me differently, depending on how I'm seen at the moment.

For example, at CLAW this past year, on Friday I was out wearing both my cover and my show tail with my kilt. On Saturday, I was in a singlet and kneepads and leather Chuck Taylors. On both days, I had my two boys proudly in tow; I was perfectly comfortable in my space on both days. Yet I was keenly aware of how differently some people approached me on Friday as compared to Saturday. Now, I appreciate and understand that much of it is born out of respect, and I'm perfectly fine with it. In fact, I look on it as a positive lesson for my own growth. I say all of this only because I noticed.

However,  there was something more, also. I was aware of some of the questioning looks thrown my way while wearing both the cover and the tail, even caught a mumble of reproach from one as I passed in the vendor area. Still, I carried myself with pride and dignity, comfortable in my own skin, knowing I'm both Pup Tripp and Sir Tripp, all in one package.

Getting to that point of self-comfort, though, wasn't easy. For the longest time, after accepting I was transitioning into a more dominant role, I still felt there were times I was supposed to choose between one or the other. Something as simple as just going to the bar could put me there. Do I leave the pup gear at home and go out in my cover, or do I put on the pup hood and other gear and go out as a pup? I was both even then, but finding the balance was elusive.

And what about my boys? Did they need me to carry myself more in the role of Sir, or were they fine if I was with them more as a pup? Was I somehow failing them or their expectations if I chose one over the other? They seem silly questions, but they're ones that I spent a lot of time wrestling with. Even as I embraced both parts of who I am, I struggled with bringing them together more often than I let on.

Fortunately, between my boys and all the pups and handlers I met during my title year, I was able to better come to grips with that internal struggle. The full package that is me was accepted in full, not piecemeal. I learned that it didn't matter that the two roles may be seen by others as contradictory. I was reassured that I'm not in some way thumbing my nose at long-held traditions and beliefs far older than my time in the community. I learned again that what mattered was that I be honest to myself and to let that honesty shine with pride and integrity. I was taught again that there is a time to let one take the lead over the other, yet both are equally important parts of who I am. Once again I was reminded just how fortunate I am to have in my life the people that are there and to be part of this community.

So, rather than try to jump between two boxes that do nothing but limit everything, I find myself wanting to toss those boxes aside and be both Pup and Sir at once. Yes, there will still be those who think it's somehow incorrect or in someway counter to certain beliefs. There will still be the looks when I wear the tail and my cover, or let my boy put me on the leash. Far more important is it to be honest to myself and about who and what I am than to hide it for fear of being judged.

So, the next part of the journey starts, and I look forward to it. Will I still on occasion feel caught between the two? Probably. I'm human, and change and growth don't happen overnight. And are the lessons ended? Not by a long shot, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

From Leatherboy to Pup

That the great journey called life is filled with experiences both profound and subtle pretty much goes without saying. And as many of us have at some point come to realize, something that seemed innocuous at the time was actually a major turning point. It’s only when we’ve moved forward from the moment far enough to reflect back and see it for what it is does that jump out at us.

This past weekend, a conversation with the man who brought my inner pup out for the very first time gave way to that kind of reflection. It was a chance to again look back at a moment that, while even at the time was filled with deep feeling, was a doorway through which I stepped into a whole new world. More importantly, it was a chance to really see how much being a part of the pup community means to me, the impact it’s had on my growth and journey, and how fortunate I am to have found my way into this great pack we have.

At the same time, it was a moment to look at where we were as a pack then and at how much things have grown and changed in what is relatively a short period of time.

But there was another realization that, after all these years, finally clicked. I didn’t realize it at the time (again, innocuous at the moment), but I encountered two things that were to affect tremendous change in my life in 2002. The first was my initial exposure to pups and puppy play. The second was meeting some of the boys from the DC boys of Leather.

This isn’t meant to be some kind of retrospective or “when I came out of the kennel” piece. However, to get to where I want to go, I do have to first look back.

My experiences in the leather and kink community have been tremendously positive ever since I first ventured into it nearly fourteen years ago. Yes, I know that 14 years is only a fraction of the experience of many who have come before me, and I don’t presume that makes me any kind of expert on anything. But those 14 years are packed with lessons learned, friendship and brotherhood shared, joys and hurts, love and loss.

And they have been packed with change. I’ve changed as a person and as part of the community. The community itself has grown and changed. Has it all been positive or constructive change? No. While most of the changes have been positive, there have been those occasional negatives that lead us to stumble. Each time, though, we’ve just dusted ourselves off and continued forward, a little wiser for the experience. Being human, however, we sometimes have to trip over the same kind of vine more than once before we realize it’s always going to tangle our feet.

With and through the DC boys, I quickly discovered and experienced a sense of brotherhood and community unlike any I had ever known. They were (and many still are) my brothers. As hard as it may be to believe, prior to my joining that club, I was actually pretty quiet. But the DC boys and my brothers in it brought out something that was just waiting to come out, to be shared and to be involved. It was a time and experience that influenced so much of my own growth in the community, and I will carry all those good memories wherever I go. I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Which is why, given how rewarding and enriching my time with the DC boys of Leather was, I’m still amazed that what I’ve experienced among the pups has transcended even that. If asked at the time, I would have said it couldn’t be possible.

And I would have been completely wrong. Not that one is better than the other, only that the differences – and parallels – are so remarkable.

When I first joined the DC boys, the leatherboys as a whole were still in the process of identifying and asserting their place in the community. The concept of boys and submissives was nothing new to the leather community. Nevertheless, the leatherboys were coming together to look after and look out for each other and to help each other. They weren’t looking to take the leather community by storm, only establish a place that was their own, a place that was safe and in which boys could learn from one another. Leatherboy clubs were springing up all over the US and in Canada (the first, the DC boys of Leather, began in 1999). To be sure, there were the naysayers who either disparaged or pooh-poohed the then so-called “boy movement” or viewed the boys as community property. And there were those who used being a boy as an excuse for inappropriate behaviors that reflected negatively on the whole.

It has been the same with the pups and the evolution of the community pack that’s come into being. Pup play and pups aren’t a recent creation within the leather and kink communities; there are those who have been around for 20 years or more. Like the leatherboys before us, the pups are now coming together, to look after and look out for each other, to establish a place that’s safe for pups. A place where we can share and learn from each other. Like the leatherboys before us, the pups are at a point of finding its own identity while asserting its place within the greater community. Pup and handler clubs are coming together far and wide. Yes, we have the naysayers and disparagers. Those who disrespect our space or see us as community property. And, yes, we have those who use “pup” as an excuse for inappropriate behavior and whose behavior reflects negatively on the pup community as a whole.

What really stands out to me, however, is the intensity and speed with which the pup community has come together, adapted, and grown. Our reactions to challenges and pitfalls as a community have, in the main, been very analogous to the leatherboys. When I first came out of the kennel in 2008, there was very little organization or networking among pups. Moshes were far from commonplace.

How different it is today! In just six years – the same length of time I was with the DC boys before coming out as a pup – so much has changed. We, as a pack, have become a community in our own right, networked and connected not just all across the US, but worldwide. We’ve responded to challenges by looking for and adopting ways to better ourselves and each other rather than run pell-mell down the negative path that would tear us apart. We’ve built something in which we’re all proud, something that embraces the diversity we all bring to it. Something meant to last and to grow.

As much as I felt lucky to be one of the boys, that same feeling is even more intense when I look around at my pup brothers and sisters and know I’m one of you all. I’m reminded again that, when Jason Hall asked me how my first experience in pupspace felt, that my answer was a heartfelt “Natural.” And no matter what challenges are thrown in our way, I know we’ll overcome them, just as others have before us. As others before us successfully asserted their place among the whole, so will we. And, like those before us, we will accomplish that while maintaining and preserving that core of the pack that makes us distinct within the whole.

It’s already started.


P.S. One last little “coincidence” that bears mentioning. Jason Hall, the man who brought out my inner pup for the first time, was also one of the DC boys’ members who voted me into that club. Hmmm….)

In Answer to a Question...

A question often comes up, both within the pup and handler community and from outside of it as well. It’s a question that stirs a great deal of discussion – some of it rather intense – and captures a wide array of viewpoints. Among pups and handlers, it’s a sometimes-awkward but ever-necessary step on our own path of self-discovery and self-identification as we emerge as a community pack. That often crosses inter-community lines as we explore it with those less involved with us toward a genuine mutual understanding. And, then, there are those ask it with a markedly different emphasis altogether.

Is the puppy community part of the leather community?

If that seems a simple, straightforward question, the reality of it is anything but simple or straightforward. The conversations surrounding it, and the passions it evokes are as many and as varied as there are people engaged or the number of arguments for either “yes” or “no.” In many ways, it goes to the heart of where the contemporary pup and handler community is in its growth and evolution.

There is no denying that the pup and handler community spans a wide array of interests and personal identifiers. There are those for whom pup play is sexual and those for whom it isn’t. To some it’s a kink, and a fetish to others. Some identify as leatherfolk; others don’t identify as such. Some include it as part of their D/s lifestyle, others don’t. We are diverse in terms of sexual orientation or gender identity. Some of us identify not just as pups, but as boys or subs, some are even Sirs or Doms. The same applies to handlers – not all are Doms and many identify with other parts of the broader kink & fetish community. There is no one-size-fits-all here.

Maybe part of the answer to the question lies in looking first at the history of pup play and the community that has grown around it.

There’s a general consensus that some of the roots of the pup and handler community can be found in leather. Part of our history includes that pup “play” was once more a form of humiliation, used to degrade or to punish. This is something found, not within just the past ten or fifteen years, but long before the emergence of what we have today. It’s there and has lent much to the shaping of what has come into being in the present. What was once used as humiliation or punishment evolved into a play and headspace in its own right, taking its place alongside a whole host of kink and fetish activities that we’ve come to accept as part of our lifestyle. There are many within the pup and handler community whose identity and involvement goes back years, well before the rise of what we see today, and a number of them have influenced what has since developed.

Also, there are roots within the emergence of the leatherboys/girls as a distinct part of the greater community. There are among us a good number who identify as boypups or first as boys but who are also pups. The number of pups who are in D/s relationships with their handlers or trainers, Daddies or Sirs isn’t small. There are many who found their way to the pup community or their own identity as pups through the leatherboys and the legacy the boys brought into the overall community as a distinct part of the whole. That many of the challenges and stumbles currently experienced by the pups and handlers today mirrors what happened in the late 90’s and early 2000’s is no coincidence.

Some of the practices and protocols we’ve brought forward and incorporated into the pup and handler community are quickly traced back to practices and traditions that were born among or adopted by leatherfolk. Where D/s relationships exist between pup and handler/Trainer/Owner, many of the traditional practices have been brought into play, from locked collars to pup play being a reward for service. Yes, there have been distinct changes in how some traditions have been adapted, but the essence of what was remains. Alpha/beta relationships can, in some ways, mirror a D/s hierarchal structure; a locked collar is still more often than not seen as a symbol of ownership.

I think, in light of just these examples (and there are more), the pup and handler community has some strong roots in the leather community. To say otherwise is to disregard where we’ve come from. Just as the pup and handler community can’t dismiss its history as part of the leather community, neither can others on the outside say we’re not connected to it.

However, like any community, ours has grown beyond its roots. What we see today, what’s grown from those seeds and roots, has blossomed into something more than what was planted. It’s fair to say that the pup and handler community is a part of the leather community, but it’s not entirely leather. Like so many other subsets of the kink & fetish world, ours has since come to intersect with a wide variety of other subsets, only one of which is the leather community. It intersects with the BDSM community, furries, the D/s communities, fetish and kink – and not all of them are entirely leather, either.

So, to again look at the question: Is the puppy community part of the leather community? 
Inasmuch as leather is a part of our history and much of what we are today can be traced back to leather, then yes.

However, the pup and handler community of today is not just leather. It’s so much more than that now. It’s a community in its own right, just as the BDSM and D/s communities are. As are the furries, the leatherwomen, bootblacks, and every other one out there. None of them – none – stand alone. Even as we each have our distinct identity, we’re also part of and bound to each other. At the individual level we identify more with some subsets than with others, and that’s perfectly fine. After all, don’t people often speak of how important our growth and journeys as individuals are?

Nevertheless, as a community pack, we’re connected to every other part of the greater whole. And we, as different parts of that greater whole, are all in it together.

So maybe it’s time to ask the next question: What can we do to look out for each other and come together as one?

PuppyGate 2015: Let's Keep It Positive

Enough has already been said about the problems coming out of CLAW regarding pups and inappropriate behavior. These actually aren't new problems or the first time we, as a pack community, have had them happen and tarnish the image we, as a whole, are working to portray. What makes this different is that the pup and handler community is rising to the challenge to affect a positive change.

And that's what I want to reinforce here. Not as a kumbaya moment, but as a chance to do what's needed to be seen with the respect with which we want to be seen.

Some very positive and constructive conversations have begun within the community itself. Some of our leading figures have stood up and faced the issue head on, a difficult task and one I applaud them for. Ideas are already being brought to the fore and looked at objectively.

It's important, not only that we keep this going, but that we do it maturely, constructively and respectfully. Right now, feelings are definitely running in the extreme. No one likes being put on the spot. But those negatives should not - must not - eclipse this opportunity.

Right now, it would be all too easy to say we aren't the only ones with some among us who act out or engage in inappropriate behavior. However, while that statement may ring true, it's an unnecessary distraction. What we need to remain focused on is our part of the communal whole and how we, as a pack, engage with it.

None of us are perfect. I know I'm not. But those imperfections don't have to hold us back. Heck, given the right circumstances, they give even more depth to our pack as a whole. So let's avoid getting hung up on those.

Let's listen to each other, discuss those ideas that can propel us forward, and avoid the ones that divide or set us back. We're one pack, and we're in this together.

Pup Tripp
IPC International Puppy 2014
Co-founder & Past Alpha, Mid-Atlantic Kennel Korps

How Much Is That Handler in the Window?

** Originally posted January 2014 **

Here recently I’ve come across more than one instance of a pup becoming disillusioned that they don’t have a handler. And, sometimes as a result, they begin to question their own worth or identity as a pup, sometimes to the point of wanting to just sever all ties to the puppy world. Or they leave themselves open and vulnerable to situations that are unhealthy at best that, again, can lead them to turn away from us. Some of them I’ve known personally; some I have known only through acquaintance or social networking. But all of them are good pups, gifted with a vibrant puppy heart that could be nurtured into being so much more.

To see these pups turning away is saddening. There is so much that each of them could bring to our communal puppy pack, and we lose that potential. Even more disheartening, though, is that these pups end up hurt and disillusioned to the point of shutting out a part of themselves. 

How do we convince them that it need not be this way? How do we convince them to not shut out their inner pups because the right handler or trainer hasn’t come along yet? How do we get beyond the mistaken beliefs that all handlers and trainers are only looking for X or Y in a pup, that handers’ interests are as varied as there are pups in the world.

There was one pup I knew that sometimes wondered if he’d ever find a Sir or a trainer. He came into the leather community about fourteen years ago, and found himself collared fairly soon. It turned out that that relationship wasn’t the best fit for him (it wasn’t abusive, only that it didn’t match his personality and needs). After only a year, the collar was removed and he continued his journey independently. Most didn’t know he came out of it somewhat disillusioned and unsure of the leather community.

Fortunately for him (and others as it would later turn out), he soon learned there was a very supportive and vibrant community out there. The pup (although he didn’t identify as such at the time) found other ways to get involved. He got involved, first with a local club and, through that, more of the area groups and events. He soon found he had a natural connection with the leatherfolk and kinksters and grew to have great passion for it all. It wasn’t long before he was actively contributing, finding ways to put his service to use in ways that benefitted others. More importantly, it gave him a sense of direction and purpose. What he didn’t realize at the time was just how much he was discovering  about himself.

That’s not to say he gave up the idea of ever being collared again. Through it all, that desire remained inside, tempered by knowledge that it wasn’t beyond the realm of the possible. There had been interest from Sirs he respected, but the connection was never right. And, even without the collar, he gained the incredible gifts of their friendship and mentorship.

Eventually he came face-to-face with his own inner pup. That alone opened new doors for him. But it also put a sharper edge on that want for a Sir – or as the pup wanted then, a handler. But that wasn’t in the cards yet. Again, there were those who were interested in the pup, but he just knew it wasn’t right. So he didn’t give in or give up. Instead, he continued to remain involved, learning more about himself and growing as he went. Finding those things into which he could put his energy which, in turn, brought benefit to others and reassurance to himself.

And then – almost 5½ years later, it finally happened. The pup met a potential handler with whom he felt comfortable and connected. It happened when he least expected it, and he certainly wasn’t looking for a handler when it did. The handler was someone the pup had known for years. However, that man’s own journey had only recently taken him into exploring his Dom side. Neither had ever before given thought to a D/s or Handler/pup relationship between them until one chance encounter where Sir was asked to hold the pup’s leash and look out for him for a while by the pup’s partner. And something just clicked. So here was a pup only recently out of the kennel (but long involved in the community) and an emerging Sir connecting at an unexpected moment.

The pup wasn’t a youngster by that time. He was actually in his early 40s, and the Sir was almost 15 years younger than him. He wasn’t exactly the body type seen on all the posters for events and advertisements. He had a bit of a tummy and, without his glasses, blind as bat. But he had, by that time, come to know more about himself. He may not have known what all he could bring to a D/s relationship, but he’d gained a good understanding of what he needed and hoped to find in one. And now that such a relationship was possible, he had enough insight and experience to proceed carefully, with his eyes wide open, aware that this was a serious step.

The collar didn’t go on right away. Even though both were more than interested in seeing what could develop, they took the time to discuss and explore what it would mean. They both understood that a collar isn’t just something worn, that it means something deep and significant. It was nearly two more months before the collar was presented and only then after it was clear all sides were in agreement and understood. But finally, after nearly 6 years, the pup was presented with a collar and became an owned pup.

At MAL 2009, Mister J collared Pup Tripp.

I don’t think it needs to be told what that pup went on to become.  I can say that I do understand, that I’ve been there. I can say that I know how it feels to see others collared and wonder if it would ever happen for me, once or twice to the point of wondering if I wanted to stay involved.

Yes, it is true that I am no longer under Mister J’s collar. After a little more than three years, our Handler/pup relationship ended. But, in ways, it wasn’t so much an ending as it was a new chapter. I still see part of myself as His pup (and likely always will). He remains a great friend, mentor, and someone I will always hold in high esteem.  I still get a tingle when He says He is proud of me or just “Good pup!” I firmly believe that I owe my becoming International Puppy 2014 to Him as much as to anyone else who guided me to this point.

That is why I always try to reach out to disillusioned pups, to encourage them not to give up. Because I know that it can happen when it’s least expected. More importantly, there’s a world full of experience and opportunity and learning that awaits. Everything you learn and experience makes you that much more ready when the time finally does come.

Most of all, because you’re not alone. As dark as it may sometimes feel, and while maybe your brother and sister pups can't fill the role of handler or alpha, this whole big puppy pack is still here for you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something a little different...

Just a little something from a project I'm working on, a story entitled "By the Dark of a Hunter's Moon"

Keirstaad speaks…

We are the Hunters.  We are one with the Night.

For centuries the War between Good and Evil has raged unabated, with the Night an eternal battlefield and the souls of Mortals the elusive prize. And, for centuries, the Hunters have stood as guardians, protecting from harm the innocent and the unwary. The would-be predators become our prey; the hunters the hunted. Ours in an on-going battle, with no quarter given

Down through the centuries our existence has been the stuff of legend and myth. Folk tales in Northern Europe and Scandinavia call us the Wild Hunt, wolves and hounds howling and chasing prey in the dark of night. We’ve been called Ghost Riders, believed to be spectral horsemen pursuing or quarry across the heavens.  Our names have been many, but our truth only one.

We are the Hunters, eternal guardians, neither Mortal nor Immortal.

Nearly everywhere we have been known, we are held in fear and awe. To hear or see us has been to know us as harbingers of doom. Doors were locked and windows shuttered. Simple folk cowered at the sound of our approach, praying to be passed unharmed.

The earliest people knew the truth of our existence. But that truth was lost quickly in the shadow of fear, and we have become nearly as reviled as those evils we’ve long battled.

Well, so be it. The world has moved on, and so have our enemies. Evil has taken new forms and multiplied. Still we stand firm against it. The old has been forced to give way to the new, but through it all, we have endured, adapted and grown. Through it all, we have remained true to who we are.

We are the Hunters.  We are one with the Night.

Reflections at Sunrise

There has almost always been, for me, something powerful about watching the sun rise and a new day emerge from the night. Often times we miss it, caught up in whatever else is going on that has us awake at the dawning hour, but the subtle currents are there. Yet, on those occasions when I sit or stand and just watch the sky brighten as the sun peeks over the horizon… well, I can’t think of one instance where that hasn’t somehow moved me.

This morning, as I sat by the window at the airport, watching the daybreak, it was definitely one of the powerful and memorable moments. I suppose that shouldn’t be too surprising. After all, I was getting ready for the trip back home and a return to the real world after a weekend with some pawsome pups and handlers. It’s nearly always with wistfulness that many of us make those treks home.

What struck me in that moment, though, was that feeling of being disconnected and how poignant it seemed. It was a feeling I’ve had before but never been able to put into words. A feeling of suddenly being cut off from the whole and alone.

And just as quickly it struck me that I have no reason to ever feel that way. No reason whatsoever. I don’t have to look all that far back to find a moment to remind me that I’m absolutely not alone as a pup.

But, now that my mind had gone there, as I watched that sunrise, I thought about how many others can’t look back and so quickly find a moment like that. Pups out there who want that connection so that they can feel they belong and connected. If I could feel that way in a moment of weariness and transition, how does it feel to those who live it day after day?

We know those pups are out there. We see it almost every day via social networking. And many of us, via those same social networks, offer up sincere words of encouragement and virtual nuzzles to our brothers and sisters in need. This is a good first step in building up those connections to the whole and fostering the sense of belonging and inclusion. Never in a million years would I discourage it.

The pup community is overwhelmingly supportive and inclusive. No, it’s not universal. No community can ever claim that. However, unlike many, there seems a greater awareness and embracing of our diversity. That often translates into encouragement and support coming from many corners and kennels to a pup in need or even one just having a rough time. IN all my time in the leather community, I’ve never seen anything like we see it here.

But what else can we do? A virtual hug, no matter how sincere, doesn’t convey the reassurance and comfort of a real one. The same would seem to logically apply to being connected to the pup community via real ties and not just the electronic ones of Facebook. There’s a vast difference between reading about the ties of pack brotherhood and actually being surrounded by it and feeling it all around. It has to be very difficult to see so much going on here and there in the community and not be able to be a part of the fun and brotherhood. While it’s easy to say someone just has to show up, there are many factors that put it beyond the reach of some.  For those on the geographical fringe, it may not be easy getting to where the fun seems always to be.

I wish I had answers to this question. For a moment as I watched the dawn, it was disheartening that nothing came to mind. However, I’m a sucker for symbolism. And, in that dawning moment, I realized that, like the sunrise, all the resources and potential the pup community has within it can be what brightens the way. Whether as individuals or as groups and organizations, we have a lot of out there already broadening the connections amongst us all. We’ve already been doing it. This is just another day.

We talk about being one pack, inclusive and embracing. For that to truly be, it has to reach all who identify as pups and handlers.