The time has come, the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax
Of cabbages and kings
And why the sea is boiling hot
And whether pigs have wings
_ _ _ _ _
This little ditty from “Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There”, written by Lewis Carroll in 1872, bounced back onto my radar this past week. It entices the reader with the promise of an intriguing chatty-cathy session with the Walrus.
Yet if you read the poem “The Walrus and The Carpenter” through to the end, you discover the Walrus and his pal eat all the oysters they have persuaded to leave a cozy sea bed to share a pleasant walk and a pleasant talk along a pleasant beach. With the oysters occupied with the Walrus’s discussion of topics ranging from cabbages to kings, they were clueless that they were to become nothing more than a sumptuous snack.
Great strategy for the Walrus. Not so good conclusion for the oysters.
Upon reading this poem again…after many years of neglect for a lesson learned as a child sitting at my father’s knee…I realized my husband and I routinely employ the Walrus Strategy when dealing with our puppies. No, we do not eat our puppies. But rather, we have enticed them with the promise of a favorite treat if they will quickly come into the house…so they will not see the bunny sitting along the outside of the fence surrounding our back yard…preventing a rousing romp along the fence line peppered with frantic barks echoing throughout our neighborhood.
Great strategy to keep the puppies calm and quiet. And good for the bunny’s peace and contentment.
When driving home from a visit with my elderly mother yesterday morning, I realized that I have also been employing the Walrus Strategy during my recent visits with her, in an attempt to keep the dementia at bay. I focus our conversation on happy topics, to keep my mother’s mind occupied and distracted from the nasty repetitive thoughts that can sometimes envelope her.
I routinely chat about the antics of our puppies. Or share a little anecdote about one of my husband’s and my recent adventures. My mother typically responds with a memory from 30-plus years ago, and our conversation remains pleasant and keeps a smile on her face.
Great strategy for my peace of mind. Not so good for our nemesis, Missy Dementia.
However, this strategy is not full-proof. Because no matter how hard I try to keep the conversation positive, Missy Dementia will typically rear her ugly head at some point, sending my mother into a mental tailspin as she regurgitates the same nasty thought over and over and over again.
Unfortunately, the Walrus Strategy is hard to re-employ. So, I simply chalk it up to the rules of the game at this stage in my mother’s life. And take comfort in knowing that at least a portion of our visit was pleasant.
And I will let you in on another little secret. In the end, I would much rather be a Walrus than an Oyster.