Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m confident this fits here.
Ever since this quarantine began, schools have been shut down and we’ve been staying at home. I’m taking a university-level writing class in high school (in fact, there’s only one of them in my entire school), and this quarantine has opened me to the prospect (I know, it’s not really a ‘prospect’) of lavishly engaging in a kind of writing spree. I had this emotional urge to write about this specific piece, since it brings back a lot of memories, some of them bad ones (on my part, because writing this opens me to how careless I looked back when I was young). It amazes me, still, that I’m able to recount the flow of events that took place on this very day.
The day was Thursday, April 8, 2010, exactly ten years ago. You may think the display of an exact date sounds like a plea to garner extra sympathy, but I remember how this all went down as though it were yesterday. I was eight years old (second grade) and on this day I had been sick at home while my brother was at school. My mother, my babysitter and I were the only ones at home. I had isolated myself in the basement and was watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (yes, I remember what I was doing, too), when I went upstairs for something and instantly found my mother and babysitter standing over my 16-year-old golden retriever-collie mix, who was splayed out on his dog bed. I asked what was wrong and came closer, but my mother instantly told me to back away because my dog was no more. I, like a braindead fucking idiot, was very dismissive of the thought, because I didn’t think that was actually possible. But then I came to accept reality. I broke down into tears, knelt beside my dog and caressed him. My parents later took my dog to the vet. He was burned to ashes, which I did not witness. Today, it’s been exactly ten years, and I constantly regret how I barely paid him any mind. To be honest, I used to have a fear of dogs, but it has long since evaporated. Because he was already so old when I was born, we couldn’t take him on lavish adventures, such as to frolic in dog parks. I also had another dog, a female German Shepherd, who died when I was one year old. My memories of playing with both of them as a baby are very vivid.
Admittedly, I was also quite reckless with my old dog. I would constantly do questionable things with him that I regret to this day. I remember trying to climb up on top of him like he was a horse, only for him to shake me off like I was nothing more than a fly. I believe I engaged in several reckless activities with him, and it never crossed my head that he wasn’t a toy. No, I never hurt him, but my actions were undoubtedly reckless. I remember having a fear of him biting me. This never actually happened, but it’s one of the reasons I kept my distance from him. In fact, my fear of getting bitten was so intense I even resorted to having him put fucking outside! At the time, it didn’t register in my head what the neighbours would say, but I was too paranoid. In reality, I should have realised how old he was growing, and that someone needed to take care of him. Instead, I did the exact opposite. Even today, I still berate myself for failing to act upon this. As my German Shepherd grew increasingly unstable, his time outside decreased exponentially. We got him shoes, which he hated, although he had no choice but to wear them; it would protect his paws from the snow. But as I said, him growing old decreased outdoor time. Now that I think about it, we could have at least spared the time to take him to the park, but as my brother and I were very young, and didn’t know how to train him, we never did so. We had a lot of good times with him, but never really took care of him to an extent. My German Shepherd was also walked by my parents. I barely remember ever going along with them, as I didn’t yet realize the importance of it.
The shocking passing of my last dog on April 8, 2010 was the beginning of my learning to cooperate with all of them. It had finally opened me to the fact that a dog is man’s best friend, and that they are meant to be loved, cherished and cared for. Despite this, however, my timidness of dogs did continue following my own dog’s passing, and I wasn’t yet ready to fully engross myself in their world of fun. Little did I know I would be learning a very long-term lesson.
In 2012, I reluctantly decided to visit my friends’ house because they had adopted a poodle and I wanted to check it out. I’d been asking them about it for a few months after she was adopted, and was acting really eager to meet her. However, while that was the case, at the same time I didn’t want to meet her. I had a sort of timidness for small dogs, and was easily scared by them at the time. When we arrived at my friends’ house, I was thinking if this was really the right choice or not. I didn’t know how the dog would react to strangers, and I was torn between wanting to find out or not. Eventually, I chose the former and it was not pleasant. The dog’s shrieks echoed from my friends’ backyard. One second she wasn’t there, and within the blink of an eye, she was there. I remember screaming and booking it down my friends’ lane, with her in hot pursuit. I reluctantly decided to visit my friends again at Halloween of that same year, and while the ensuing encounter was not as explosive as the previous one, the poodle was sitting uncomfortably close to me and even trying to peck at me, which I, at the time, didn’t realize was, in fact, done with playful intentions. Needless to say, whenever we were going to my friends’ house, I would feel anxiety shivers creeping all around me. I made sure to keep my reasonable distance from my friends’ poodle, and I also remember I was trying not to let everyone around me believe I was scared of her. However, I definitely don’t think that worked.
In the fall of 2014, when I was in seventh grade, I was introduced to the penultimate stage of extinguishing my fear of dogs. There is a dog park near my house (believe it or not, I had no idea of its existence, even though I’d been to the park thousands of times) which I was advised to visit by my anxiety program. I was initially timid at such an idea because I couldn’t really fathom the idea of visiting a dog park where numerous dogs frolicked off-leash. However, I reluctantly agreed, and the experience was surprisingly smooth. I gradually got to know the area and soon became obsessed with it, actually. Prior to the lockdown, we’d taken my future poodle pointer there almost every day. I vividly remember thinking that I’d suddenly wanted a dog because of my experience at the dog park. The presence of an infinite number of dogs made me inevitably reflect on how little attention I paid to my old German Shepherd. By the end of the anxiety program, around May 2015, I was reasonably confident that my phobia of dogs had been extinguished, given the amount of stress tests I undertook. But it wasn’t easy. I believed that, yes, I’d be fine in a dogs’ off-leash area if I’m surrounded by dozens of people, but being alone with a dog was a whole different thing.
This is where that comes into play. In July 2016, a few months prior to adopting our poodle pointer, our friends went on vacation and I remember requesting to look after their small black poodle. Even though it was I who made the request, I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to, as I was still a bit timid of dogs, especially when they were off-leash; however, I had this urge to prove myself. They swiftly agreed, and she subsequently spent a month at our house. Admittedly, she did make me slightly nervous with all her barking and yapping, but otherwise it was all fun and games. Looking back, for me it served as a test to extinguish my phobia of dogs. Also, I lavishly took advantage of the seemingly-perpetual time I had to play with her, as I had not done with my first dog. It was a lovely experience, to actually accept and follow through with the responsibility of looking after a dog. At the end of this experience, I was hard-core reflecting on how I could’ve treated my old German Shepherd like this, and I suddenly found myself wanting a dog, but at the same time I was timid.
I again made the offer to look after my friends’ poodle in October of that same year. In spite of the experience from the summer, I felt somewhat used to it; in fact I was overjoyed to be given a second opportunity. But apparently my friends’ poodle was really attached to my mother, who was on vacation at the time, and so looking after her this time was more difficult than I’d imagined. It was similar to how we did it in the summer, only this time we had school. Looking back, I still feel this was a great decision because it allowed me to learn to balance school and taking care of a dog. But it went well. She seemed to have grown used to the place, having been there for a month and a half in the summer.
From September to December, we browsed the internet looking for a dog to adopt. I remember aiming for a really small dog, because they were the type to frighten me in my childhood, and I wanted to overcome it. We observed several dogs, to no avail. I was becoming antsy. I wanted a dog to cherish, but at the same time I was in two minds. I knew that not all dogs were the same, and I wasn’t sure if I really was up for the responsibility.
After browsing through a gazillion websites for adoption proposals, we finally adopted my poodle pointer at Christmas in 2016. He was nine months old. My brother and I were made responsible for walking him. At first we couldn’t really take him to the dog park because he was a bit timid. We subsequently hired a dog trainer and she got us through all the necessities. We’ve been treating him to the dog park since March Break began, and he really likes to run around. He isn’t really the type to follow the rules, either. It’s really funny. At dog parks, he’d constantly scan the areas for open spaces and seize his chance whenever he could. I must say, my poodle pointer, while initially timid at us being his new owners, turned out to be the complete opposite of my old German Shepherd. While he was inclined to isolation and everlasting naps, our poodle pointer apparently had everlasting endurance. He could run for hours on end, and you wouldn’t even know if he was tired or not. His energy seems to be everlasting! However, due to the coronavirus crashing upon us like lava, the dog park is, as of this time, immune to the messy play of thousands of dogs, who used to visit the park every day, like kids in an open recess. Previously, we installed a badminton net in our backyard, so he likes to watch my brother and I, absorbed in perpetual and messy action (we tend to make a lot of mess when we’re playing badminton). He takes this as a treat to scavenge for squirrels and he does sometimes dig up the yard. Apparently he possesses a very keen sense of hearing, because he’d react to pretty much any noise outside our front window, be it a garbage truck slamming, kids playing or people talking!
Not long after we adopted him, we hired a dog trainer. This proved to be futile, however, as he would continue to disobey us. As I mentioned, he was the complete opposite of our old dog because he pretty much had superhuman strength. Finally, we resolved that the best way for him to learn was by trial and error. I wasn’t sure if this was really a great idea, but my parents were confident. I remember that if we wanted him to sit, we would make a hand gesture as though we were giving him food, and he would automatically sit. Yes, I know it wasn’t exactly the best way, but at the time I was new to training a dog. Like any other dog, he was keen on seeking out squirrels. When he jumped at our window ledges, he would sometimes make a mess, but it wasn’t really much of a big deal; I found it very funny.
Recently, my thoughts have been very deep and full of conflicts. I found myself travelling back in time to April 8, 2010, when I was caressing my dog’s splayed-out body. This thought blazed fiercely in December of last year, when I watched several videos of homeless dogs being abandoned by their owners and tirelessly searching for new homes by themselves. Even though I never actually behaved in that way at all towards my German Shepherd, these videos and the overwhelming emotion seen in it enlightened me (painfully) to how oblivious I remained regarding his depleting health and stability. I didn’t register the fact that, this being in December 2019, it was very close to the date of when my dog passed away ten years ago. I don’t know why I decided to watch such videos, but it was probably because I was trying to extinguish my catharsis so that I’d fully understand my wrongdoings. I don’t know if it worked. I cried like I was next to my German Shepherd on that fateful day ten years ago. My thoughts were also jumbled with various questions like, how do homeless dogs fathom such heartbreaking situations? How do they learn to conduct themselves in the event of such a situation? Perhaps my catharsis was significant in that it inadvertently prepared me for this piece I never thought I’d be writing. And yet here I am. I recall that, following my viewing these disturbing videos, I considered the real meaning of a dog’s purpose, and what impact they can actually have on a person’s life.
Then in February of this year, my family had taken a trip to visit my aunt and cousin, whom I hadn’t seen in almost seven years, for the long weekend. I had learned that they now had a dog. Even though my phobia of dogs should’ve been extinguished at this point, it wasn’t, and I remained a bit timid until we arrived at my cousin’s house. I’d become so accustomed to looking after my own dog that I’d forgotten how I would interact with others. Obviously, not all dogs interact with strangers in the same manner, and that is what makes me nervous. When I met the dog, who was small and fluffy, she was initially hostile (which is natural, as most dogs are to strangers) but eventually calmed down, and I became very fond of her; in fact, she practically became an addiction for me while we were there. I remember how much she loved me, and how, despite being initially timid of her, I plucked up the courage to take her on a walk only on the second day of visiting my cousin. I remember looking at my photos with her and realizing that I’d truly outgrown this timidness of dogs. It felt like dropping a bellbar from my shoulders in satisfaction.
Now that I look at the 2010s as a whole, it literally marked my long journey for overcoming animal anxiety. For the first part of the last decade, I would ignore dogs to the best of my ability, unaware of the problems I was causing for myself. I remember going over to people’s houses. If they had dogs, I’d tend to stay in close range of my parents. Despite them telling me there was really nothing to be afraid of, I all but blanked out of their insistence. I remember that when we were invited to people’s houses, the first (and usually only) thing I’d ask is if they had a dog or not. My parents did tell me that I couldn’t be a loner just because I was afraid of dogs. How was I ever going to contemplate this properly? So I’d come along with them, my heart thudding like mad each time. And on some occasions, it actually worked. I managed not to make people go deaf by restraining my screaming. I can even replay them in my head as I write this. Despite this, however for the most part, I was inclined to avoid dogs whenever possible. Then came the middle of the hiatus. Beginning in 2014, I was helped in contemplating my phobia of dogs, going through anxiety tests to see how I’d react, and even decided to test myself in the summer of 2016 with my friends’ poodle. I had the support of everyone around me. Finally, after a series of anxiety tests, we adopted our own dog, whom we all love.
I take this time as an opportunity to truly understand what Thursday, April 8, 2010 represents, and when this crisis is extinguished for good I look forward to spending time with my dog, as I’d missed the opportunity to do so with my first dog. There are millions and billions of dogs out there, in our world, who are looking for homes. It’s a very excruciating process to find them proper homes where they can be loved and cared for. Be the voice of those who are overlooked. Stand up, make a change. Remember that animals are living things, too. Don’t be me, and don’t be ignorant, like I was. As I mentioned above, this sudden spree of writing stemmed from the coronavirus lockdown and the absence of education. But I never, for one second, thought I’d actually write a post like this about my dog. I thought it was something that I’d accepted and moved on from. However, between Thursday, April 8, 2010 and 2016 (when we adopted our poodle pointer) I observed, from lavishly traversing the outdoors, the impact of a dog’s influence on one’s life. I was battling my still-existing fear of dogs during this hiatus. All the while, I observed countless forms of perpetual love, purpose, and dedication. I would see owners embracing their dogs, with jealousy spurred across my face as I watched. But as I mentioned, it was not until I underwent my tests in the anxiety program that I finally developed insight in the world of dogs.
To cap it all, this piece ties to the very strenuous hiatus I endured while ridding myself of my phobia for animals. I felt like I had to do it in order to make my old dog’s soul rest in peace. It wasn’t easy. I have come to realize the impact of animals on human life. It’s amazing to think that ten years of observing and engaging with dogs would finally bring me to write this piece. All of my guilt over my phobia of and slight recklessness with animals gave me the motivation to write this piece. Doing so was very nostalgic.
Thank you for reading.
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from Pets https://www.reddit.com/r/Pets/comments/fx68sv/thursday_april_8_2010/
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