I was bitten by two different dogs when I was younger than 7 years old... and it still troubles me to this day. It's marked who I've become. I'm afraid of dogs - have been since then. I wish I weren't. I so understand loving dogs, man's best friend. I get it. I yearn for it. I just don't have it. And I've read how dogs can sense when a person fears them and as you could expect, it makes them more aggressive toward that person. It's the whole energy-we're-emanating thing which I so believe in, so of course, they'd feel how tense and uneasy I am, and it would put the dogs more on edge, too. It's the perfect storm when dogs and I come together. If I go into a friend's home with five other people, the dog will always come to me. He senses something not quite right and comes to investigate.
Going away to the lake every summer is a highlight of my life. But....dogs come into play because, of course, there are a lot of dogs, loose, running around camps. As they should be. They're protecting their country abodes and enjoying getting out of the city themselves.
But, I need to roam. I'm not one to sit still and need to get outside each day and move. I cannot be corralled into a tiny place.
This past week, we were fortunate enough to rent the most beautiful lake house on Loon Lake in Rangeley. One morning, Frank and I headed out for a walk down the dirt camp road which smelled of pine and was lined with the most beautiful Indian paintbrushes, lupines just getting passed, and daisies in full bloom. A half mile or so up the road, at a rustic cottage, four dogs came bounding toward us, growling. Frank, as usual, got in the middle of them, tried to calm them (to calm me) and keep them occupied so I could pass unnoticed. These four were not falling for it. The owner of the dogs was sitting on his porch and Frank asked if he'd call them back.
He said, "Are you kidding me?"
Courteously, I said I had been bitten; I was afraid of dogs, would he please call them back so I could pass? He refused and told me to stop acting weird and they'd be fine.
I attempted to move forward, past memories and fears crushing my heart with each step. One of the dogs bounded toward me and I retreated. "No," I said to Frank. "I can't do it. Let's turn around."
Frank shook his head. He didn't want to turn around. He wanted, and believed it was our right, to walk further down the public camp road. I knew if I made it past, I'd have to come back, and I wasn't willing to do it.
The next day, I attempted to run 3 miles within the perimeter of our 1-acre property. Can you imagine how many loops you have to make to get 3 miles running around 1 acre?
I asked Frank about what mace would do to dogs - I never carried it for people or animals before and knew in my heart that wasn't the answer. After a day, I thought I had it all backward. I should carry dog treats, not mace. Be nice, not mean. (I'm not mean.) "Then they'd follow you," Frank said. Oh. Bad idea, then.
I relented. I tried to look from the camp owner's perspective wanting to let his dogs run loose in the country as they should be allowed to do. I pulled back. No hard feelings. It was my issue, and I seemed to be in the minority. I would find my own ways to roam, in a smaller fashion when in the country in unknown territory.
A couple days later, Frank was walking by the man's rustic camp. (He was out for a 6-mile run, but knew he needed to walk past the man's camp so the dogs wouldn't get all rowled up. It inconvenienced Frank, too.)
The man was again on his porch and shouted out to Frank. "Was that your friend the other day who didn't dare pass the dogs?
"That was my wife," Frank replied. "She's been bitten. Twice."
"Please tell her I'm sorry. I'll tell her myself if I see her, but I handled that very poorly. I was insensitive. I shouldn't have reacted that way."
I was so impressed. Both the dogs' owner and I, upon reflection, thought of the other and tried to view the situation from the other's viewpoint. I didn't pass the camp again on foot during our week, but I was comforted in how both he and I had learned something and were more civil and understanding of the other's perspective.
What a wonderful thing to reflect and be broad minded. I'm still afraid...but I can remain a believer in the goodness of man when he looks at issues from all sides.
