Finding Joy in Snarkville

When I was little (let’s just say for the sake of accuracy here from like birth to college) I was afraid of dogs.  All dogs.  No, there were no “nice” dogs in my world view.  The little ones where yappy and horrible.  The big ones would jump up and freak me out.  A bark in my world equalled a full on attack.  I was afraid of dogs.

Oh and I should mention, not the cute run behind my mother kind of afraid.  I mean the frozen with fear – want to curl up in the fetal position kind of afraid.  I would not ride my bike down certain streets because there were dogs (behind fences).  I would not walk too close to the fence in my back yard because we had dogs on both of sides of us.  I would NOT go to some people’s houses because they had a dog.  Did I say I was afraid?

At somepoint as I aged, I decided that this fear was in fact not good.  Mind you about the time I decided this was only a year or so after actually having the thought, “It doesn’t matter that I’m afraid of dogs — I’ll never be around one. EVER.”  So, at somepoint — and there was probably a boy invovled — I decided that I would be better off without a fear of dogs.

I did what any normal teenager would do.  I woke up one morning and said, “I’m no longer afraid of dogs.”  Now, in my world this declarative sentence should have put a complete and total end to my fear, right?  What you don’t think so?  Well, maybe you are right.  You see, declaring oneself no longer afraid and not BEING afraid two completely different things. But I’m nothing if not determined.

First step in my plan was to shoot for total calm when I saw a dog.  Ok.  Then I moved on to touching, petting, and after say 5 or so years I got to the point where peeing and running away was no longer my first thought when I saw a dog.

I got a dog.  Yes, at my core I’m a cat person, but Prince and I got a dog.  He was on sale and it shows, but he is sweet and nice and I have never once been afraid of my dog.  You see how well I had progressed.  I had progressed so well, I’m not entirely sure Prince (who was not around when I was dealing with my fear) believes that I was once petrified of dogs.

So imagine my shock this morning.  I was putting Duke in the car to head off to school and I turn to close the door to be FACE to FACE with an unleashed Doberman — FULL GROWN.  The top of his head was a least a foot taller than Duke.  He was huge.  He did not growl, in fact the woman who was walking him came right up as I was frozen in place, said, “He’d very friendly.” put a leash on him and kept moving.

First, I’m proud I was completely calm.  I did not scream or pee or run.  I should there between the beast and my son (I’m thinking this is more mother’s instince than conquering fear though).  I calmly mentioned to the woman, once the beast was leashed, that there is in fact a leash law in Snarkville, perhaps she should think about it.

I got into the car and started to drive away.  I’ve thought all morning about why, after over 10 years of no fear, I had fear again.  I want to say it was a protective thing towards my son, but frankly, Duke was not what I was thinking about as I turned and saw Doberman face in mine.  I thought, “Shit, this dog is huge. I probably shouldn’t move too quickly. Where’s his leash?”  I thought about it the whole way to school this morning, I’ve dealt with very large dogs without fear before, even a Doberman.  So I doubt it was the breed or the size.  What I’ve concluded is that it was the unexpected dog.  At no time did I think I turn around and come face to face with a dog, any dog.  So it begs the question, is fear of the unexpected dog still a conquering of my fear of all dogs?

I would love to meet this dog again and say hello properly.  Perhaps explain to his owner that it was ok, I was shocked more than anything else.  I’m not sure I was all that gracious in meeting a friendly Doberman before 7am.

30 ROYAL WISHES:

1. I wish while I’m 33 to ride in a hot air balloon.
2. I wish while I’m 33 to travel somewhere I’ve never been.
3. I wish while I’m 33 to knit 12 pairs of socks (that’s one pair per month).
4. I wish while I’m 33 to clean out my closet of all clothes, shoes, and accessories that I don’t love, fit well, and look fabulous.
5. I wish while I’m 33 to learn to cook a new meal every month that becomes part of our normal dinner rotations.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 5th, 2006 at 9:52 am and is filed under I say it's my birthday., The Queen. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.