The Conquering of an Old Fear

If anyone knows me , they know I'm NOT a dog person. At all. Not even a little bit. I got chased when I did a paper route a million years ago and the dog caught me and I got bit and had to go the hospital and was scarred for life. Emotionally that is.



Fast forward about 5 years. I had many conversations with Dave about what to do when chased by a dog as I was deathly afraid of all dogs. It was really an unhealthy fear. He told me to yell at it. Specifically, a short word like "no" or "stop". Also, to be prepared to throw something at it. I rehearsed those things in my mind over and over because I don't think well on my feet and hopefully, if a situation ever presented itself, I wanted be prepared.



Fast forward another couple years. I was walking with my SIL, Valerie here in Walcott. We came up to a house with two dogs. One was a big ol' dog and one was a little yippy thing. They came around the house in the shadows and I said something to Val like "Oh my word that's a big dog." Well she only saw the little yippy thing and thought I was crazy. But suddenly the big dog charged us, all the way out to the street. I did the only thing I could think to do. (This part is much better in real life when I can demonstrate.) I turned to the dog, bent over with my arms in a 'muscle' pose, and growled at the dog. It stopped, looked at me with it's head tilted, and walked back to the house. Then, I stood up in slow motion and turned around to look at Val, just in time to realize I really looked like an idiot. She was bent over laughing so hard that she almost peed her pants. We laughed all the way home and she has never let me forget about it.



Fast forward to this past summer. I was running on the gravel road where my sister lives in NC. There was a house with two pit bulls who decided to rush me. I was able to turn and yell 'no' and approach them to make them stop. One of them didn't want to stop and came right up to me. I had to keep telling it to stop but it eventually did and they went back to their yard. As I turned back to my run, I was amazed at how calm I felt and was so proud of myself that I had actually passed the test.


I've never really thought of it before, but when you choose an exercise habit like running, you are bound to run into dogs. Duh, but it never coorelated in my mind until now.


Fast forward to the past couple of weeks. There is another house here in Walcott that has two dogs. The house is down a street that is kind of out towards the country and therefore they don't keep the dogs tied up. They have a big ol' dog and a little yippy thing. The big dog is almost always outside and the little one is sometimes out but lots of times inside the garage. Dave and I have been out there together when the big one has come out close to the road. We think it recognizes us now because it stays up close to the house and hardly ever barks. The little one however, barks constantly, from the time it sees us until we are out of sight. The thing doesn't shut up whether it is outside or inside the garage. It thinks it's pretty tough. One day, it was outside and decided to rush me on the road. My friend, Brie, was with me and it came out to the street all running like it was going to get us. The thing is, it's a weiner dog and it is the fattest weiner dog I've ever seen. It's belly drags on the ground when it runs. So it's not hard to imagine this dog running as fast as it can but it looks like it's in slow motion as it lopes along with it's long ears all flopped back on it's head. It's hysterical to watch. As we had a good laugh, I said to Brie, "I know I'm not very fast but even I can outrun that thing." When I told Dave, we both laughed and he said "yes, it's true. Even you could outrun that dog."
The icing on the cake, however, was the other day when I ran out there. The weiner dog was yip, yip, yippeting as loud and fast as it could. It was just going crazy. As I got closer, I noticed the big dog just staring at me. It never did make a sound. I watched as it walked over to the weiner dog, bent down, and 'whispered' something to it. Then the big dog raised it's head and walked away and the little dog never said another word. As long as they could see me, they never made any more noise. As much as the little guy acts like he's in charge, that day proved it to me. The big guy rules the roost.