The first time a dog bit me was unfortunately the morning I declared I’d stop running from them. Dogs. I promised myself I was not going to see another dog and literally fly… I’d just sweat on the inside and out, be very still and hope it goes away. This was how it went down in a movie I watched and someone survived- although a snake was the animal in question, but to me, a pair or incisors is a pair of incisors- doesn’t matter who carries them, I’m running for my life or standing still- whichever instinct kicks in first. But, I digress.
So, the first time a dog bit me, I had made all these vows to overcome my fear. My neighbours’ dog was rabid as far as I was concerned, still gorgeous – a Doberman/Terrier breed.
I somehow got to a point where I could pet this dog. I mean it had chased me so hard that mid-chase, I jumped over a fence. Everyone who had witnessed my sprinting skills with mirth were at that point were also cheering me the day I decided to stay and pet the dog. A few minutes later, everyone seemed to have dissolved away to their natural spaces, because I suddenly became aware of the silence. I was alone. And then, as if he could smell my fear, this dog turned his head my way and with my hands still running through his thin coat, I started to take deep breaths.
Just as I was about to instinctively stand up, he latched onto my shorts and grazed my skin with one of those incisors. I know I said he bit me but that was bite enough. The only thing that stopped him from doing more harm was the dog collar which yanked him back as I stepped away. The long scrape just above my knee was bleeding like an old wound does when you open it up from too much itching. As my neighbours’ cleaned me up in their kitchen, I decided that scenario was my last attempt at ‘animaling’ (Now it’s not just dogs, I’m afraid of the entire ecosystem).
Can you blame me though? In my primary school days, three large and proud Agric fowls situated themselves on my street. If I saw them in the distance, I’d steer clear of the street and take a longer road home. One day, I tried feeding them and one of them reacted by flying two feet off the ground in an attempt to attack me. You might not be familiar with Agric fowls. They are large with eagle thighs, feathers looking like bulging muscles, complete with this mean stink-eye. I allowed the three musketeers to own the road. Often passing by with a quick sprint because they know how to give chase. Now, my only relationship with chicken is how it manifests on my plate, savory and humble, and that’s that.
I could go on with the animal bonding failings that made me decide to give the entire species a wide berth. The pig that followed me all the way from school to my street, the monkey everybody fed without incident but bit my finger for giggles. The rabbit we experimented on in science class and how mine refused to sleep, just a pair of red eyes staring back.
So, me? I’m desperately afraid of animals but I love them from a distance–that is for me and my psychologist to figure out. There was that time I almost bought a Lhasa to literally start small, but we’re back to irrational, once again.
What makes no sense is, in my dreams, I’m Ace Aventura
This was hilarious!!
I am still laughing! smdh!