01x38 - Dances with Dogs

[bunniefuu]

What's the story, Wishbone?What's

this you're dreaming of?Such a

big imagination on

such a little part.

What's the story, Wishbone?Do you

think it's worth a look?It

kind of seems familiar, like a

story from a book.

Shake a leg now, Wishbone. Let's

wag another tail

Sniffing on adventure With

Wishbone on the trail Come on,

Wishbone

What's the story, Wishbone?

What's the story, Wishbone?

What's the story, Wishbone?

What's the story you wishbone

Oh, no, you must have lost.

Hey, Mom. Hey, Joe. Hi, David. Hey,

guys. Hi.

We just cleaned up on the court. Oh, he's

a basketball star, just like his dad.

Like father, like son. We have

tasted victory! And now we'd like to

taste some of that coffee cake. Psst.

Haley, how about a little victory treat?

He knows who the pushover is at this

table. Can I feed him something?

Just say yes, Alan. He likes these.

Here you go, wishbone. Oh, yeah. Mmm.

Well, it's not that, but I'll take what I

can get. So, maybe you

and David can help us out. We're planning

our annual Lee Natoniba event at the

library. My fifth year to

tell a Native American story for the

storytelling series. Last year you told a

Navajo coyote. You...

Great. Play funny. This year, I want to

try something different, but I don't know

what yet. Well, why don't you let me tell

a story?Something in the canine tradition?

Too bad we'd have a hope for the inside

kitchen. This man is a genius. What do

you mean?I mean, sitting around the

kitchen table is the best place for

telling stories. Yes, absolutely!

The best of all possible worlds. That's

how it was in my grandmother's kitchen.

Everybody would be sitting at the table

and pretty soon there'd be stories.

Stories about things that had happened

just a few hours ago or stories that

happened at the beginning of Navajo time.

It all went together. I grew up with the

stories and in the stories.

You didn't get all your Navajo stories

from books, did you?No. They were passed

down generation to generation, person to

person. As a child, I listened to

learn the story, to remember the story so

that later on I'd be able to tell it

myself, especially the old stories of my

ancestors. Do you ever get tired of those

stories?No, they tell me who I am.

Each story is a path, a field that

leads to a good place every time I follow

it. Of course, it's fun to hear the

stories for the first time, too. It's an

adventure. You follow the trail,

but you don't know where it's going to

lead or what you're going to find along

the way. That

reminds me of a story. Oh, tell it.

You have your kitchen table. This story

comes from the Mantee Dakota, who lived

in the woodlands of what is now called

Minnesota. It's called The Story of

the Deathless Voice. It's about a group

of warriors. followed a

trail on the lookout for the enemy. I'll

go on the trail.

Imagine this. In the very

long ago, there was a certain group of

Dakota warriors who left the circle of

their tribal camp in order to help their

people.

They were in search of an enemy who was

trying to push them out of their hunting

area and take food from their families.

They searched for many days and could not

find the enemy, so they kept moving.

Some had been in battle many times and

had many stories to tell.

Some had no stories of battle to tell

yet. This would be their first time to

fight. The

warrior's greatest weapon is a fearless

spirit. His path may lead to

death. And now on this

path, every

sound, every

movement could

mean an ambush.

All on the trail without knowing what

they would find next. Their

story was in the making. I hope I

can be as brave as those who have gone

before. Finally, with still

no sign of the enemy, they had to stop to

rest and to eat. We will

camp here, take turns on the watch.

Ooh, let me be in the watch party?I'm

good at that. You may take first watch.

Remember, watch with your ears

and your eyes. I have a special talent

for listening. And some young warrior

set off to look and listen for the enemy.

I'm ready for anything. I'm totally calm.

Nerves of steel. What was that?And

that's all I'll tell for now. What?Wait a

minute. I just heard a sound. It could be

the enemy, but I want to know what

happens. Yeah, you just got started.

You'll just have to wait it out with the

w*r party. They don't know what's going

to happen next either. Well, OK. But you

promised to finish the story sometime,

right?Yeah. I mean, you can't just leave

us hanging. I promise. But

now I have an idea for the performance.

What?We're going to turn the library into

a gigantic kitchen. I don't think I

should be the only storyteller. What do

you mean?I'll tell one of my

grandmother's stories. But then I want

some people from the audience to tell a

story, too. Something from their own

families, their own experience. That'll

take guts. Yeah. I think I'll need to

recruit some volunteers. You want

stories?Oh, I got stories.

I'll do it. You will?Well,

Joe, that's great. Now that reminds me of

your dad. He never thought twice about

helping out a friend. What kind of story

will you tell?

I think I'd like to tell a story about my

dad. Well, Joe, that's a lovely idea.

You knew my dad pretty well, didn't you,

Mr. Natoniba?He was a good friend.

I think he'd be honored to have his son

remember him with a story. I know

he would. David, will you

help out too?Sure. I've got lots of

family stories. Great. And what about the

dog?Time for the dog's story.

Too bad Wishbone can't talk. Oh, I talk,

Lee. It's just that nobody listens. You

know Wishbone?In a lot of the stories, I

know it's the animals that do the

talking. And human beings are not

necessarily the wisest creatures on the

earth. Finally, stories that

tell it like it is. Oh, and

that was after your dad's team won the

state championship third year in a row.

You know, Joe, I'm really proud of you

for doing this. It's a good excuse to

find out more about my dad.

Yeah. I mean, I remember some things

about him. I remember us going to the

tire swing in the park. I kind of

remember him carrying me around on his

shoulders, but I don't remember

that much. Well, you were barely six when

he died.

Am I anything like him?Um..

Actually, you're a lot like him.

Will I win the state championship three

times in a row someday?I

wouldn't be surprised if you did. Neither

would I, Ellen.

Hey, when your dad was just a freshman in

college, he kept up a 4.0

and he started on the varsity team.

Yeah. I guess he was pretty good at math.

That's one way I'll never be like him.

Hey, look, your dad won an award

for a senior essay.

An experiment to measure the modulus

of elasticity of

polyvinyl compounds is applied to

spheroid rebound

trajectories. I don't even understand the

title. Well, to tell you the truth, I

think it has something to do with the

physics of basketball. Oh, right.

And here he is stuffing himself with

pizza. My kind of guy. Oh, I'll

get it.

Hi, Wanda. Hi, Lee. Come on in. We've

been going over the program design. I

think it's coming along. Oh, wonderful.

Hi, Mr. Natunoba. Um, you've met Sam

before. Oh, yes. Hi, Sam. Hi.

Hi, Wishbone. Hey, why don't you ask

Ellen if you can feed me?How's it going,

Joe?Fine.

We've been finding out a lot about Joe's

dad. Like what?Like that he was

good at everything. Yeah. I mean, look at

these trophies and newspaper articles and

stuff. Boxes and boxes.

Hey, Mr. Natonoba, why don't you finish

that story you started yesterday?Yeah,

that's right. You promised. OK,

That's fair. Uh, yes. I was on

watch for the enemy.

You remember, the w*r party was camped...

Suddenly, he heard a song in the

distance. Wait a minute.

That's not a bird or a wolf. That's the

song of a warrior.

This could be the song of the enemy. They

would follow it and try to find them.

They followed the song until it led them

to a tree.

Was this some kind of enemy trick?Where

was the voice coming from?

They drew their weapons, but the voice

came.

Now what do we do?

Joe?

Joe?Uh, sorry,

Mr. Natona, but I don't feel like

listening to a story right now. Joe?

I'm sick of stories, and I don't want to

tell a story about my dad anymore.

You can do the performance without me.

What?He didn't

mean that, Ellen.

Joe.

Joe. Hey, wait up. Joe.

Where we going, buddy?I'll follow you all

the way.

Whoa. I got to work out more.

Joe. Cal, are we camping here?

Hey, Wishbone. Listen, why don't you

scratch me behind the ears?It'll make you

feel better.

Ah, yes, the healing scratch.

Let's face it, people need pets.

Joe?Do

you feel like talking?How'd you

find me here?Well, this is where you

bring me when we take a walk. And I know

this is where you remember your dad best.

Mom. There's no way I'll ever be able to

live up to all the things my dad did.

What do you mean?All the stuff he did.

I'll never be that great.

So all the stories about the state

championships and the good grades and

this honor and that honor. He doesn't

seem like a real person, does he?No,

there's no way I'll ever be like him.

Joe,

you're not in competition with your dad.

He's just somebody I'll never know. But

you do know him. He's a part of you

and and you're a part of him. You

complete his story. You don't have to

compete with it. You're a part of every

great thing I do, Joe. I keep thinking of

the warriors who followed the song of the

tree. Let me tell more of the

story, Joe.

OK, back on the trail of the

story.

No one knew what to make of the voice.

In the next moment, the song died away,

and there was stillness.

In the silence, one young warrior decided

to get a closer look. He found

some bones lying at the base of the tree.

Were these bones singing to us?

These are the bones of a warrior. He died

a warrior's death. There's joy in his

song. Death took his body. We will

keep his song. Let us learn his song.

Dakota storytellers sometimes say to

their listeners, . It

means take courage from the story.

Take courage from your dad's story, Joe.

You can use it to fight your own battles.

Maybe. Yeah, buddy. We're warriors

together. The story of Joe is still in

the making, and it's wonderful. Now,

let me tell you something about your dad

that you won't find in the scrapbooks.

What?On our first date, he

was 45 minutes late because he locked the

keys in the car while it was running. And

then he did it again when you were born.

I had to take a cab to the hospital.

Really. Yeah, that wasn't so great.

Your father wasn't perfect, Joe.

Nobody is. Except for the dog, of course.

You want to go home now?

Yeah. I'll lead the way on this

trail!

I like this picture of us. Yeah, Joe

is a cute little puppy.

Have you, um, thought about the

performance tomorrow?It's your choice,

Joe. There's no pressure. I'm

gonna do it, Mom. Do you want to hear?

Oh, I'd love to.

I wish my dad were still alive, but he's

not. So I try to remember

everything I can. I remember

his walk. I remember the sound of his

voice. My mom says

she can see some of him in me.

When my mom tells me stories about him, I

can see his face. I can hear

his voice. Her stories

keep him alive for me.

You know, we have to leave in a few

minutes, so we have time to set up

performance. Think we can make it?Sure,

Mom. We're almost done with this. Yeah,

Wanda, this program cover really is

beautiful. Aw, thanks, Ellen.

Wanda, I gotta say it. You have talent.

I really appreciate the help from

everybody in putting this event together.

I think people are really going to enjoy

it. And dogs. Will dogs get to enjoy it?

Oh, I hope so. So, do you

get nervous before you perform?Well, I

don't really think of myself as a

performer when I tell the Navajo stories.

Why not?The important thing is the

stories, not the storyteller. What do you

mean?Navajo storytellers use this word a

lot when they tell a story, jene.

Genet means it is said. The

storyteller uses it to remind us that the

story doesn't come just from him. It

comes from a whole history, a whole

culture. The storyteller is sharing part

of what he's learned from his family and

friends. It's a gift.

Exactly. A gift to the community.

You know that Dakota story I was telling?

It's not quite ended. I think I can tell

it when we finish up.

The warriors had defeated the enemy and

returned home.

A certain young warrior now had his story

to tell. But not only did they

bring back stories of their victory,

they brought back the story of a new song

and they shared it with the people.

I'll keep the story going. Late?

Late. That's what today's performance is

for, to keep the stories alive.

I think Wishbone knows what I'm talking

about. Finally, a little recognition.

Either that or he's hungry. Oh, ye of

little faith, Ellen. Well, ready to go?

Yep. Oh,

um, why don't we take my car?I think we

can all fit. Over.

I guess Whispawn thinks he's coming with

us. He really should be there. I mean, it

is a family event, and he is a part of

the family. Listen to the man. He knows

what he's talking about. He's right, man.

Come on, Ellen. You love me, don't you?

Oh, all right. Yes. Thank

you, Ellen. Come on, Wishbone. Can I

drive?Today

we've come together to celebrate stories.

We've heard a story that my grandmother

shared with me, her grandchild.

We've heard stories of sisters and

brothers. We've heard

stories of a father told by a

son. Now,

I want you all to imagine that we're

sitting around one enormous kitchen

table. At

this table, there's a place for everyone.

At this table, there's time for

everyone's story.

We take turns talking,

laughing, listening.

Even the dog gets to sit at this table.

Our hearts beat together as we listen to

the story.

We speak the story because the story

speaks to us. At this table,

people, animals,

plants, wind,

water, fire,

past, present,

future. All creation

comes together.

At this table, words become images.

Our speaking turns to singing.

Our walking turns to dancing.

At this table, we're all

related.

Everybody would be sitting at the table

and pretty soon there'd be stories.

Stories about things that had happened

just a few hours ago or stories that

happened at the beginning of Navajo time.

It all went together.

I grew up with the stories and in the

stories.

As a child, I listened to to learn the

story, to remember the story so that

later on I'd be able to tell it myself,

especially the old stories of my

ancestors.

Each story is a path, a trail that

leads to a good place every time I follow

it.

Of course, it's fun to hear the stories

for the first time, too.

You follow the trail, but you don't know

where it's going to lead, what you're

going to find along the way.

That reminds me of a story.