Speech from International Puppy contest

I've been asked to share my speech from the International Puppy contest. The recording of it didn't work out very well, so I'm putting up what I originally laid out. It didn't come out quite the same way onstage, but pretty close, and the point was still there.


Good evening Friends, Pups & Handlers, Honored Judges

If I could have one wish, it would be to have my pupbrother Timber here with us. He was a pup long before we came together as we now are, and he would be so proud to see what we've become.

Timber was more than a friend or brother. He was an inspiration. Just by being himself, he taught me that I could embrace and be proud of my own inner pup. More importantly, he taught me that you don't have to be down on all fours to be a pup 24/7. What matters is what's in your heart.

That's the gift he gave me, and it's one I try to share wherever I go. Not just with other pups, but with the entire community. That it's not what we look like or what we wear. Not even how we play. It's about being proud of what we are.

So to my pupbrothers and sisters, I say this. Lift your heads and howl. Howl from your hearts. Listen to it and feel it. Because THAT is the sound - and power - of puppy pride!

Thank you

Dad, Never Forgotten

In Memory of My Dad - from his Memorial Service Held Sunday, November 3, 2013

The Lion King - Endless Night

A Letter to Dad

Dad,

I was already a teen when we met. You didn't get to watch as I grew up as a child. You didn't get to see my first steps. You didn't get to bandage my scraped knees or brush away a little boy's tears. You didn't get to guide me as I rode a bike for the first time and tell me you had me, that I wasn't going to fall.

You were there as the teen grew into a man. You were there as I took my first steps into a big new world. You were there as I endured the bumps and bruises of an adult in the world. You saw me off on my journey and, in your own way, let me know you had me, that I wasn't going to fall.

In time it became my turn to help with your steps. I stood beside you to be the guiding shoulder you could lean on. It was my turn to be strong for you in a world less steady. The man came home to be the firm arm you could hold. And I always told you I had you, that I wasn't going to let you fall.

You've gone to another world now, Dad, where others are waiting to take you by the hand. And, although I have to watch you go, I know I don't have to fear.

They've got you, Dad. And this time, you're going to fly.

The Forgotten Child

THE FORGOTTEN CHILD  by Rick Hutchings (1996)   I feel I should preface this particular poem with a note. The Forgotten Child does not reflect my own coming out experience. However, I have witnessed the pain of others who have faced the experiences this poem speaks of. Therefore, this poem is dedicated to all those whose honesty was greeted by rejection.

You looked upon me as I lay in my crib
Your baby, so helpless and small
With love's shining eyes
a heart's warmth freely given
I was your child

 

You watched me; you held me
My tears and smiles your own
We laughed and we played
We cried and we prayed
I was your child

 

Parent and child, together we grew
Through love you showed me the world
The hopes that you shared
Showed my future prepared
I was your child

 

When my goals became different
You gave me room to grow
For the child will fall
To the adolescent's call
Still, I was your child

 

One difference in me brooks no refute
A truth I cannot deny
I thought you would see
That I was still me
That I was still your child

 

How then has it happened?
Why do I now stand alone?
Because I chose to reveal
Who I am, what I feel?
Have you forgotten your child?

 

What unforgivable wrong have I done
     that has left me cast away?
Or is there no longer room in your heart
     for me - your child - who is gay?

 

I am who I was, and always will be
     the child you held by the hand
But now I can see, you look upon me
     as a stranger you don't understand

 

You taught me the value of telling the truth
     of honesty right from the start
And yet that I've chosen to tell you the truth
     we now stand worlds apart

 

There's a pain that rages deep in my heart
     sorrows more bitter than you know
You turned me away because I am gay
    you want me - your child - to go

 

How quickly it was you seemed to forget
The happiness we shared
When truth became told
Your hearts became cold
Was I not your child?

Together we stood as a family
Until I learned who I was
Now with trust lying broken
These words go unspoken
I am your child!

I am your child!

I Am a Pup...

I am a PUP.

 

I am a HUMAN person who has the energy of and sometimes behaves like a CANINE person.

 

I am not a freak who thinks they're a dog. I’m a person who recognizes and expresses a deep part of myself that behaves and responds that way.

 

It doesn’t matter how I look on the outside. The things that make me a pup all come from within.

 

I am not necessarily a submissive. Even if I am, unless I’m wearing your collar, I am not YOUR submissive.

 

I do not have to be down on all fours to be a pup.  But if I am…

 

If you want to approach me and don’t know how, "introduce" yourself. Approach me like you would a bio dog: hand down for me to sniff. If I am being handled or watched by someone, ask them first.

 

Belly rubs and ear scritches are almost always welcome. But, remember, please introduce yourself.

If I’m down on all fours and clearly in some kind of pup headspace, please don’t ask me questions or try to have a conversation with me. Beyond barking for “Yes” or “No,” I probably won’t be able to answer.

 

Do not attempt to feed me real dog biscuits or treats. They are just as bad for me as they are for you.

If you want to give me a treat, make sure it’s something I can have.  Again, ask first. If you don’t see a hander – or if I don’t have one – think twice before offering. I may have allergies you don’t know about.

 

I am not public property for you to poke, prod, yank, spank or otherwise treat disrespectfully.

 

My tail (if I have one) is not there for your amusement. It is there to add to my experience as a pup. To pull on it or otherwise play with it is both disrespectful and physically dangerous.

 

If I growl at you, I have a reason. Stop doing whatever it was that made me growl. I don’t like it.

 

If I yip and wag my tail, then I am a happy pup. Either that, or you have my chewy toy and I want to play!

Going Forward With a Look Back

It's been no secret that I've been pummeled the last couple months at work with a bad situation that has yet to see resolution. Add to it the frenzied final preparations for Metro Leather Pride and the packed schedule for this fall, it really only makes sense that I've had some occasional moments of feeling overwhelmed. Sometimes I can only wonder how I manage to stay astride of it all. Having the support of my husband and my boy and such good friends has gone along way.

But sometimes through it all I've found a part of myself missing the safety net that came with being a collared pup. That feeling of everything being okay just by Mister's voice or a glance at the collar in the mirror.

Part of it comes from having recently found the camo chew toy Mister J gave me way back when he first took me as his pup. I was so excited when I found it. I thought I'd lost it forever somewhere along the way. As much as I love my leather bone chewie, The camo rope is so much more special. And finding it brought back a flood of good memories. I've since kept it close at paw, just to draw much-needed strength. Silly? Maybe, but it's helped more than I can say.

It's not that I want to go back to that time or to re-enter service as Mister J's pup. I know I can't go back. Nor do I want to give up what I now have. I'm in a good place with my boy and in my journey. I wouldn't give up either for any collar.

It's enough to just remember. There have been other times when Mister J's gentle guidance (or that stern look and reminder) have come into my mind and gotten me through. I've said before - and will always believe - that part of me will always be His Pup Tripp. So much of what I am today is due to what I was given from Mister J.

And it's good to remember. that, while I'm now Sir to one and addressed as such by others at their preference, my roots as a collared pup are still there. Far better is it to look forward knowing what's been than to turn a blind eye on what's gone into making me who and what I am today.

So, once again, thank you, Mister J.

Becoming Pup Tripp

I don’t think anyone who knows me doubts the passion with which I approach and represent the pup community. In the years since I finally connected with my own inner pup, it has been one of my primary driving forces in terms of service to and involvement in the leather/kink community as a whole. During the three years when I was collared under Mister J, it was as His pup, and it was the conduit through which my heartfelt service was given. All of it with that same driving passion.

To understand it, and why that passion always burns so strongly, I have to go back to my earliest days in the leather/kink community. It was in that very first year, when I was collared as a slave, that I had my initial encounter with pup play and the Handler/pup dynamic. At Southeast Leather Fest 2002 I met Master Skip and his Alpha Pup Tim. A week later, at Folsom East in NYC, I encountered others. These struck a deep chord within me, one that never quieted once awakened. However, my Sir at the time seemed anti-pup and, therefore, I never explored or spoke up about it.

When that relationship ended in 2003, I soon moved on to join the DC boys of Leather. Here were people with whom I identified as a submissive, and I quickly bonded with them. It was more than friendship, but a brotherhood and a home where I felt safe. Where I felt I belonged and could be proud. It opened doorways into a world where I could feel and be so much a part rather than apart.

But the inner pup was still there. It just didn’t have a way out. Even though one of my club brothers was a pup, my own still stayed curled up deep inside. I see now that it was only because we didn’t have anything geared specifically to pups, and there were too few in the area. I know now there were some attempts to make that happen, but they never came to fruition. And, more to the point, there was still something that held me back.

I travelled a lot during these intervening years, and I encountered others of like heart. Those travels were related more to representing the DCboL or our community, and my focus was primarily there. The inner pup looked up an awful lot, enough for me to feel that energy connection.

A time finally came, though, when we numbered a few more pups among the boys. During the summer of 2007 we had at least four. I felt the connection more strongly than ever, and for the first time I actually got to talk about it. All it needed was one more push.

That came at Mid-Atlantic Leather, January 2008. In the cigar tent with a Sir whom I hold in high esteem and his pup, a boot-licking session and romp brought out my inner pup in full. To this day I still don’t really know what triggered it.  All I know is that I pupped out completely and, 45 minutes later, Sir Jason was bringing me out. And when he asked me how it felt, the very first word that came to mind was: NATURAL. I felt and knew I had found a very deep part of myself. A part that had wanted out for so very long, but I hadn’t known how to reach it. That first experience was so liberating!

I wish I could say I ran with it right away, but I didn’t. As I got further removed from that moment, I became unsure and embarrassed. I was afraid to sow it in front of my club brothers or anyone else. Silly, I know, but it was there.

Then came Olympia 2008. The DC boys hosted their 101 Dalmatians cocktail as part of the weekend festivities. For the very first time I pupped out in front of my club brothers and friends in the community. And I knew right away I had been wrong to hold the pup inside. They were so happy for me and supportive. I recall taking a quiet moment because I felt so happy and overwhelmed.  From then on, there was no closing off the inner pup from the rest of my life or myself. Pup Puddles (my first name) was out to stay.

And, one year after my very first pupping out experience, I was collared by Mister J at MAL 2009 as His pup. Soon thereafter he renamed me Tripp. And, if I was active in the wider community before that, my involvement and passion only grew from that time on. Mister J recognized my drive and passion as equal to his own, and he encouraged me to channel it into doing more as a pup for pups and our emerging segment of the community.

That eventually led to the founding of the Mid-Atlantic Kennel Korps (originally called the DC K9 Korps).

As much as I enjoyed my service to the boys, and as sincere as that service was, it’s my service to and involvement with the pup community that has taken me to new heights. Not just as a founder of a club for pups and handlers, but by being alongside so many who share that same energy that defines us and brings us together.

And that passion now goes into representing and doing my part for the pup community. To do my part so that others can find what I’ve found. To do what I can to show that we’re just as much a part of the communal whole.

Sometimes I look back and wonder why it took so long. But I know it had to happen in its own time, and I wouldn’t change it.

A Pup or Not a Pup. There's Only One Question

Sometimes, and more often than I’d like, I still come across conversations – online and otherwise – about who is or isn’t a pup or about such conversations that left a pup hurt and disillusioned. Even worse is when these aren’t actually conversations but rather flat out –and almost always uninformed – statements of so-called fact. Too often these instances end with a pup feeling angry or confused, maybe even marginalized, and almost always hurt. And too many times it’s driven off a pup that might otherwise have made great strides in discovering more about himself and is now detached from a community that would have been supportive.

Make no bones about it (pun only slightly intended); I am very protective of my pupbrothers and sisters. I will argue for them, defend them, and – if necessary – get downright combatative for them. My preference is always to be respectful and to educate where possible. But this alpha does have teeth behind his playful bark.

Pups and pup play are not really new. While the rapid growth of the contemporary pup community (which includes our handlers) is fairly recent, going back really six or seven years, pup play itself goes back much farther, even before the advent of the earliest days of leather. There are among us now pups who have identified as such for more than 20 years. However, the sheer swiftness with which our numbers have grown over the last few years has given rise to a lot of misunderstandings about pups and our play.

One thing and one thing only matters: Is the person a pup in their heart? And that one thing is not for anyone other than the pup to ultimately decide. Just as we talk about the “boy heart” or “slave heart” or even a “Sir’s heart,” there is also the pup heart. And just as we encourage boys and slaves and all others to explore their hearts, to live and be true to what’s in their hearts, so too should we encourage pups.

Too many yet dismiss pups on the basis of arbitrary and incorrect reasoning. The person isn’t the right body size or shape to be a pup. They’re too old. They’re just boys acting out. That since they have no handler, they can’t really be a pup. Or maybe because they don’t wear the “right” gear, or even because they don’t pup out in public settings.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

Pups come in all sizes, all ages, all gender identifications and sexual orientations, all fetish preferences, you name it. Gear no more makes a pup than a Sir’s cap makes a Master or Daddy. Some pups are more expressive than others; some are more comfortable in public than others. Gear preferences vary from pup to pup, with some preferring leather, others neoprene, and even those who prefer nothing at all.

Again, it all comes down to what’s in their hearts.

Consider for a moment the vast diversity among bio canines. Not only is there a vast number of different breeds out there, but each dog has his or her own personality, its own likes and dislikes. They come in all ages and sizes, even within the same breed.

Are human pups really any different? We aren’t bio canines, but the energy we draw from and channel is very much canine in nature. We pups don’t have to be geared up or down on all fours in a mosh to be who we are. We don’t need to be in state of constant pupspace. The energy of our inner pups, for many of us, finds ways to integrate with daily activities, often without it being immediately realized.

To say someone isn’t a pup because they don’t fit some preconceived notion of what defines a pup is unfair, degrading and disrespectful. It’s making a call based on appearances and subjective ideas without taking the time to understand what’s in the heart.  It’s necessary to look beyond the gear (or absence thereof) as well as appearance or whatever else is on the outside. It’s what’s on the inside that matters, and snap judgments cannot take that into account.

To be sure, there are things that seem to make it all murkier. There are boys who identify as boys but enjoy pup play. There are pups who are actually Doms. Some people still hearken back to when pup “play” was a form of humiliation. Again, it all comes back to what’s in the heart. The murkiness comes from appearance only.

There are still a lot of pups out there coming to terms with or beginning to explore who and what they are. Our encouragement and acceptance of them not only reinforces their growing awareness of themselves as pups, but encourages them to become active members of our community.  We do them a favor by being that positive support, and we do ourselves a favor by displaying those things about ourselves and our community that make it all such a great place.

Back from the brink

How odd it's been having to actually resist the urge to slip into pupspace. And, yet, I feel very deeply that I made the right choice to NOT take that retreat.

The situation that brought it all about really isn't the point here. Yes, it's a situation of extreme importance and one that demands attention and resolution. But I don't want it being the focus of what I'm writing at this time.

What IS relevant to all this was a reaction of my own. How, when things seemed at their most difficult and I felt like the world was caving in, I had a powerful urge to draw back into pupspace. From the moment I felt that urge, I knew it wasn't the course to take. That it wasn't going to be an answer or resolution. That it wouldn't even be the re-energizing down time I sometimes find pupspace to be. It just didn't feel right, if that makes any sense. It felt like an avoidance, and for that reason alone I didn't give in.

In hindsight, I'm glad I listened to that countering instinct. Human problems require human thought, and avoidance only makes it all worse.

But I'm still somewhat amazed by the sheer power that draw held at a couple of points here and there. And, that as I think on it, the energy that went with it isn't the energy that defines my inner pup. At the time I didn't sense that kind of difference. Its only in retrospect that I feel it.

Maybe I got thrown another test and lesson. If so, I think I passed.

Under the stars in the Outer Banks

It’s nearing time to head back home after what feels too short a time in the Outer Banks. But, then, it always seems too short a time. OBX is definitely my favorite vacation spot. Maybe sometime we can do a week here with some friends and my immediate leather family. That would be awesome indeed!

Last night I went down alone to the beach, just to sit on the sand and listen to the waves against the shore. Above was a beautiful canopy of stars, stretching as far as the eye could see, bisected by the belt of the Milky Way itself. Truth be told, for awhile I sat there naked under the night sky, feeling the cool ocean breeze all over my body. I probably could have fallen asleep if given the chance.

And with those stars watching over me, I had time for quiet thought and reflection. I looked at many of things now going on in my life. For a brief moment, it all seemed so wonderfully connected, and I knew again just how lucky I have been and how lucky I still am. I have an awesome husband, a boy I am blessed to have under my collar, a fantastic circle of friends, and family. I’ve been given so many rewarding opportunities over the years; my path in life has been rich beyond measure.  I’m part of an astonishingly close and supportive community and know I can travel almost anywhere and find friends there waiting.

And, as I lay there looking up at the stars, I thought about the friends I knew were looking down on me. Mike Sampson, a friend from high school who passed away nearly 10 years ago. Iceman Dave, who was my pledgebrother in the DC boys. Timber, whom I still miss deeply. I thought of my grandmother, to whom I owe so much. And of my father. We were never close (owing to a separation more of his choosing than mine). I never got a lot of time with him or a chance to know him (or him me), but before he passed, he told me how proud he was of the man I’ve become.

Later today, Ken and I head back home. As much as I wish I could stay here, part of me is eager to get back to DC. What seemed before overwhelming now seems so vibrantly interwoven, and it’s time to get back to those things. What doubts I might have had about some things I want to do are now gone, and I know that I’m on the right course. There are some fun and rewarding times ahead, come what may!

So, to the Outer Banks: farewell until I return. To the future – here I come.