It was the end of the night during my freshman year of college — around 3am, when all the parties were over and the only thing left to do was pack a few bowls and trip out to the Courage the Cowardly Dog episode playing on my suitemate’s projector. My roommates and friends were all huddled into one little room, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on beds or with their knees hiked up on old lawn chairs they’d taken from home. I was lying on the floor, my boyfriend spooning me from behind. He’d come to visit me that weekend.
I’d done what people warned me not to do and entered college with a boyfriend. We’d met that summer and decided life was too short (or our love was just too strong) to not do long distance. He told me I was to expect weekly visits, both because our love waited for nobody and because any weekend apart would give me the opportunity to cheat on him. It was logic so twisted that of course Courage the Cowardly Dog was the show that helped me work through it.
The episode playing that night was “The Gods Must Be Goosey.” We hadn’t picked it for any reason other than it was the next one on the queue. As far as Courage goes, it wasn’t a horribly scary episode, but still, I’ll never forget what it taught me.
The episode begins with a lonely Goose God dreaming about finding love on a cloud above Courage’s home. From his place in the clouds he sees Muriel and he decides he would do anything for her affections. He conjures up a field of flowers with his godly powers. He serenades her, writes her poems, brings her platters of food. Courage does everything he can to remind Muriel that she needs to be with Eustace. Eustace, on the other hand, makes it clear he doesn’t care about anything going on. He isn’t concerned about his wife being harassed by a goose. He’s more preoccupied with fixing his truck.
With each advance, Muriel turns down the Goose God with ease. “I’m spoken for,” she says. “My place is here with the man I love.” The more I watched it, the more I began to wonder why she didn’t just go for it. Sure, the Goose God probably wasn’t the best choice for a lover. Shady courtship tactics aside, he constantly calls her fat in the episode and also has the obvious handicap of being a goose. But why was she so adamant about being taken for? Eustace was very obviously an asshole who didn’t deserve her heart.
Eustace’s truck bothered me in particular, because it seemed to mirror my own situation with the person holding me as I watched the episode. I began to remember times when I’d lay around in my boyfriend’s bed alone for hours, waiting for him to finish fixing his car. How many times had I taken a spot on the back burner for that hunk of metal and plastic? In my intoxication, I couldn’t help but compare myself to Muriel. She was so naive, so sweet, so blissfully unaware of either her suitor’s ulterior motives or her husband’s straight up douchebaggery. In my relationship, when I complained, I found he would prioritize the car over me. So, eventually, I stopped. It was better off that he had a hobby, right? I decided I’d be supportive even if it meant sitting around alone for hours on end. It’s funny how powerful a delusion can be.
And what was Muriel other than delusional? I’d watched Courage the Cowardly Dog countless times as a kid, but it never really struck me how unloved and neglected Muriel really was until it clicked with me in my own reality. This episode of television helped me realize that my boyfriend’s only display of affection was in his possession, in his need to control, and in his desire to take power over every aspect of our relationship. I’d often assure myself that my boyfriend’s love was right there in front of me. Why else would he need to see me every weekend? In reality, it came from needing to control where I was.
“This shit’s creepy.”
It seemed the same with Eustace and Muriel. I began to imagine that at one point in the past, he showed his affection for her. Eustace probably once made trips to see Muriel, too. At one point, he probably held her close at night and whispered “I love you” into her ear. He might have complimented her and made her feel beautiful. There must have been something that made her fall for him. But once the tide of love had subsided, Eustace only saw Muriel as a woman to bring him his tools and make him his meals. The Goose God’s advances didn’t concern him because deep down Eustace knew Muriel wasn’t going anywhere, or maybe he did and he just didn’t care. And Muriel, despite how flattered she was, would never be bold enough to actually leave her husband. She knew her place. She knew it well. It’s insidious, because it’s a kids show, so the spousal abuse was just used as a means to deliver humor. But maybe one of the scariest things about Courage the Cowardly Dog is how complacent they all are about the bigger issue.
I was really high. This revelation had me floored. I remember feeling my boyfriend’s arms tighten around me, and I just held on, powerless under the weight of all the information I’d just processed. Maybe I wasn’t Muriel at all. Maybe I was Courage, who was doing everything in his power to remind Muriel that her place was with Eustace. Didn’t I do the same thing every day? Part of me wanted weekends alone to make new friends and experience new things. But I didn’t take them. I constantly told myself that I needed to be suffocated by my boyfriend because that’s what our love was. Even when I knew that I didn’t really love him, I just felt like I needed to. It began to dawn on me that I made assurances, like Courage did with Muriel, to prevent myself from moving on. It’s scary to go somewhere new just like it’s scary to be whisked away by a strange goose from the clouds. My place was with him. Independence seemed foreign.
I got up. “I’m going to bed,” I muttered. “This shit’s creepy.”
My boyfriend looked up at me from his place on the floor. “But we’re watching something,” he whined.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“I’m tired.”
We held eye contact for a while. It felt challenging, like we were baiting each other to be obstinate. Eventually I walked to my room next door and lay down on my bed. I was waiting for him to follow. To feel his arms embrace me into the little spoon. Maybe a forehead kiss.
“She’s the worst girlfriend ever,” I heard him mutter from the other room. Everyone remained silent.
I flinched, but the weed was subsiding into sleep behind my eyelids. Sleep was more important. My Goose God would come.
Thanks for reading The Dot and Line, where we talk about animation of all kinds. Don’t forget to for this article and follow us on Twitter and Facebook.