I didn’t have furry pets as a kid. I had the occasional fish and took care of the class hamster once. My best friend the next street over had a white toy poodle named Fluffy. Her older brother owned two large Doberman Pincers and brought them over a lot. Fluffy was more dangerous than the Dobermans. So even though I didn’t own dogs, I was around them enough to feel comfortable around them. Until the day I delivered phone books.
My
oldest brother, David, was in high school and played the violin in the
orchestra. As a fundraising activity,
the students delivered phone books to people’s homes. I tagged along with my mom to help.
All
went well until I ventured into a fenced yard to place the phone book on a
front porch. I didn’t think about a dog being
inside the fence. No one warned me not
to go into a fenced yard. Halfway up the
walkway, here comes the dog roaring at me from the back yard. I screamed, probably threw the phone book
down (or at the dog) and ran back to the fence gate. Luckily I was nimble and thin. I quickly slid my skinny self through the
narrowest of gate openings and then collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk. I managed to close the gate behind me.
The
dog nipped the back of my right calf just enough to break the skin and draw a
little blood. Back home, my other
brother, Paul, told me I had rabies. A
police officer came by to talk to my parents and me, and said they were investigating
whether the dog had all of its shots (it did).
All
was ok, except for several years after that I was terrified of dogs in
public. Dogs chased me on my
bicycle. A dog cornered me on a
neighborhood street while wearing roller skates. Talk about freaking out – at one point I was
on one side of a bush and the dog was on the other, and we circled the bush
like we were in a wild west movie. I managed
to get out of that situation unscathed and roll home.
My
fear subsided as I got older, but certain situations brough the fear back to
the surface. One Sunday afternoon while
visiting my parents with my brothers and families, I walked my middle brother
Paul’s kids to the park. They were maybe
six and eight years old. As we walked
through the neighborhood to the park, I saw a lone dog approach in the
distance. My spidey sense prickled up
and I sprung into action, lifting each of them up and over a fence so they
would be inside a stranger’s yard, but out of harm’s way from the dog in case
it attacked. Never mind that the yard
might have had its own dog. (We’d walked
that way before and I’d never seen a dog in that yard. That’s what I tell myself now.) I acted calm, but they looked at me like,
“Why are you putting us in these people’s yard?” Meanwhile, the dog moseyed by paying no
attention to the crazy girl tossing children over a fence. I picked them up and put them back on my
side, and we proceeded to the park. No harm,
no foul.
Much
time has passed since then. I’ve been
chased on my bike now and then. I’ve
emptied water bottles as they nipped at my heels. I now have a bike route with no dogs (watch,
next time there will be one). I walk a
lot in my neighborhood and have never been bothered by dogs. Until today.
I
was almost home and here comes one dog I’ve seen before. Some kind of terrier. Harmless.
Right behind him/her, another dog that looks like a dingo (who ate my
baby!). It ran toward me (from behind)
and barked. I turned and instinctively
yelled, “Stop!” and held out my hand. It
stopped for second, then continued forward, barking more. I repeatedly yelled, “GO HOME!” in an angry
tone and finally it stopped, backed up a little like it was scared of me, and
retreated.
The
funny thing was that I didn’t feel scared.
A little alarmed, yes. But the
pit-in-my-stomach fear wasn’t there. I
think I was a bit more angry than anything.
“How dare you disturb my lovely walk?”
And as I continued on my way, I was proud of myself for coming through
in the heat of battle. I realize things
could have gone the other way. I could
have encountered an aggressive dog who wasn’t scared of me. But I didn’t.
And it worked out. I live to walk
another day.
My
moral? Sometimes you can surprise
yourself. Fear is natural and
healthy. It keeps us from doing stupid
things (sometimes). But some fears are
unwarranted and irrational. Hopefully we
learn to know the difference.
I’ve
faced many fears in my life. Public
speaking. Dating. Traveling by myself. Asking a guy out first. Going away to college. Each time after I’ve jumped in, I look back
and am thankful I took the leap. Public
speaking is not my favorite thing to do, but I’m thankful I was brave enough to
share my knowledge with others. Dating
can be torturous, but once you get past the awkward beginning, it can be pretty
great. I went on several week-long
bike/camping trips alone and ended up making lifelong friends who I now join
yearly for more fun bike trips. My
college experience was one of the best times of my life, y’all!
There are so many wonderful experiences I would have missed out on if I had listened to my inner irrational voice of fear. So get out there! Do something by yourself (safely). Ask out that guy/girl. You’ll never know if they’ll say yes if you don’t ask them. And if they say no, at least you know and you can move on. Take that class. Enter that race. Go to that reunion (yes, I’ve gone to high school reunions alone too – and had a blast). Look fear in the face, put up your hand and say, “Stop! Go Home!” Then get out there!
