As a young child, I remember being deathly afraid of dogs. When I was 5 years old, I was chased by a rather large dog while playing outside in the yard, back in Prichard, Alabama. Another older boy (around 10 or 11) was walking down the street with a dog (without a leash), and as he and the dog were crossing in front of our yard, I saw the dog look at me. With a heightened degree of internal fear, instinct took over and I began to run...to the back yard... and of course, the dog took off after me. I don't recall looking back to see, but somehow I knew it was chasing me. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me...toward the back yard...screaming. I had a pretty hefty head start, and was quite the fast runner back then, but as I reached the back of the house, on my way around the other side, I could hear the dog gaining on me quickly.
Of all the most frightening experiences in my life, I would put this one in the top five. I still remember the fear, as if though it happened yesterday. Still running and screaming, I managed to make it to the other side of the house toward the front porch...the dog at my heels now. But right then, as I ran past the porch, here comes my father outside of the house (obviously hearing my screams) with a his rifle. With not a single word, my dad, pointed the rifle at the dog, and the dog immediately broke off his pursuit of me and it took off in total fear down the street. Crisis averted. Of course, the boy that was with the dog was nowhere to be seen. Probably wasn't his dog anyway...as there were a ton of stray dogs in Prichard back in those days.
In a matter of seconds, an intense feeling of fear and terror, transitioned to a absolute sense of security and safety. It was a feeling like no other...that your dad would be there to protect you when you were afraid, or in trouble. I was never more happy to see him, and looking back, I'm glad he didn't shoot the dog, who was probably just playing a game a chase, after I ran, and had no intention of biting me. But, I also think that particular incident instilled within me, a strong fear of dogs that lasted well into adulthood. I think I began to associate dogs with being chased and bitten, and if my father wasn't around, then I would have most certainly been attacked and eaten by a vicious canine (the mind of a child is highly imaginative).
My parents divorced when my brother and I were 9 years-old, and we moved to Birmingham with our mother. My father was no longer around all the time, so my ability to feel protected from "vicious dogs" while walking home from school was non-existent. I think this only heightened my fear of dogs, as now my brother and I, were left without our fatherly "safety net" so to speak. Our daily walk home from school was wrought with terror and paranoia, as the neighborhood in which we lived was full of stray dogs. It mattered not, at least to us, whether those dogs were dangerous or not.... in our minds they were dangerous BECAUSE they were dogs, and all dogs wanted to bite you! I have to tell you, I don't have a lot of good memories about walking home from school back in those days, especially not after the kind of days I would have at school (I talk a little about that here), but at least my brother and I had each other.
Upon adulthood, WELL into adulthood (late 20s), I began to realize that my fear of canines was largely unwarranted and unhealthy. I no longer feared them like I did when I was a kid, but I still wasn't very comfortable around them (not even 100% to this day). Of course, dogs sense that...and you know..that they know...that you know you're really uncomfortable around them (at least larger ones) deep down inside, but are playing it off. Dammit...busted!
Although I very much appreciate what my father did for me way back then when I was seven, I knew I had to approach this situation in a different way as it related to my son. I HATED being afraid...its such a terrible, uncomfortable feeling, and I didn't want my son to go through that. I didn't want to instill within him, that dogs in general were dangerous and to be feared, as I knew such a fear would stay with him probably as long as it did with me. I knew that there would be a situation that arose, in which I would have to be an example, a different example, of how to face these potentially fearful situations. And such a situation arose recently.
I was outside playing with my son in the park, we were the only one's there, and this young man about 11 or 12 years old, came over with two dogs without leashes. They were running around the park (one larger dog, one little pooch), and the young man was calling them (unsuccessfully) to come back to him. The larger dog saw us, and began to approach with a growl. I don't like growls from dogs or anything else...one bit! But I knew there was a lesson to be taught here, and I needed to set an example for my son. So I remained calm, and in a calm voice, asked the young man, "Is this your dog...why isn't he on a leash?" "I don't have one", he replied. The dog, seemed to turn his attention away from me and began looking at my son, who was next to me, and growled again and started to approach (VERY DANGEROUS....for the dog). Remaining calm, but in a stern voice, I said "back up!" to the dog, and it began to retreat...but kept circling us as the young owner kept calling it over to come to him, in futility.
I knew my energy had to remain calm as long as possible. If I picked my son up, started yelling and shouting, yes, my son would feel his dad was there to protect him, but it would have also heightened the situation as it was happening, and in my son's mind...identifying this dog...and probably all others from here on out, as something to be feared. My son looked at me, almost like he was looking for me to let him know HOW he should be feeling right now. Our eyes met, and in those few seconds, he saw my calmness...he did not see fear. In his face, I saw the same calmness, the same relaxed energy. We just both stood hand in hand, and I said, "That little doggie is just silly...come on, let's play, Daniel", and we resumed playing with his truck, as if the dog wasn't there (but you know I was still watching it)
As my son continued to play, I looked at the young man and told him that if he loves and values his dogs' lives, he should have a leash for them, especially in a public place like this, as it is the law. He eventually got control of his dogs, and what was a "crisis averted" when I was a kid, never had to become one in the first place in that park. I was glad that I was able to maintain and transmit a calm, reassuring energy to my son, who would have definitely picked up on any demeanor I displayed. And it would have stuck with him.
I was also glad that my son didn't have to see me pull out my .40 caliber Glock (which his daddy keeps handy at ALL TIMES)...if that growling dog had come ANY closer...like my father pulled out his rifle while I was being chased around my house, thirty years ago.
Daddy Tip: Speak softly, and carry a big stick. Especially when you are with your child. Maintain a calm and reassuring energy, even in the most tense of situations, and it will follow them throughout their lives. They are always watching, and they always remember. Keep Daddying!
(BTW, I respect all animals...and in no way condone unnecessary violence toward them....but in this situation...I WOULD NOT HAVE HESITATED to protect my child....so for the love of your dog...keep them whole and in one piece by keeping them on a leash in public areas.) :-)
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