A Cynophobic Nightmare

closePlease note: This post was published over a year ago, so please be aware that its content may not be quite so accurate anymore. Also, the format of the site has changed since it was published, so please excuse any formatting issues.

Holy shit.

I just got to work and I’m all shaken up from the walk.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m cynophobic (afraid of dogs). When I walk to work, I walk on the wrong side of the road because one house. At this house live two dogs. I don’t mean a couple of cute little Pomeranians. These are those mean-looking dogs, and they scare the shit out of me. Whenever I walk by, they bark, even if they’re indoors. Usually they’re both on leashes, but from time to time, when the owner is outside with them, one of them will be off of its leash. As a side note, the dog house has about half a dozen cars in the front yard. Most of the cars have tall weeds growing around them, and I’ve only ever seen the owner drive two of the cars. Make of that what you will.

Across from the dog house is an ugly log cabin (they painted all of the logs, so it lost a lot of the classic log cabin charm). The people who live there have at least one cat and possibly a dog (I honestly can’t tell. Sometimes there’s a dog tied up around back that barks at me when I walk by, but I usually don’t see it). Why are these people important?

This morning, one of the mean-looking dogs trotted out from behind the log cabin! It wasn’t on a leash and I didn’t see the owner around anywhere. It headed for me, so I tried not to make eye-contact with it (I’ve heard that can signal a challenge, which can make mean dogs even more aggressive). My heart leaped up into my throat and my chest tightened up. I could feel a wave of anxiety and fear flow through my body. I quickened my pace and hoped that the dog would just leave me alone if I kept ignoring it.

When it started to get really close, I turned and looked at it, which made it stop in its tracks. I quickly turned and walked away, but I could hear it following me. I tried to remain calm, lest I show the beast my fear.

It barked.

It let out one, single bark. It wasn’t terribly loud or, to be honest, much of a surprise, but I jumped out of my skin (I don’t know if I actually jumped or not, but I’m sure I probably did). I was nearly paralyzed with fear.

The barked; not just once, this time, but again and again. I kept trying to turn my head and see where it was. It sounded like it was getting closer, but I couldn’t tell. Paranoid fantasies of the dog attacking me began to run through my mind. Self defense tactics quickly followed and I resolved to attack the dog if it got much closer.

In my cynophobic mind, the best way to defend yourself from an attacking dog is to kill it. I don’t care if it’s someone’s pet, I’m not going to let it harm me.

My salvation came in the form of the owner, who must have heard the barking. He came outside and called to the dog (whose name is “Sarge”; a name that doesn’t make me feel any better about it). The dog reluctantly obeyed (thank goodness!) and I was free.

I wanted to turn around and give the guy a piece of my mind. I wanted to call the police and complain about him letting his dog wander around on other peoples’ property and terrorize innocent civilians. But most of all, I just wanted to get the hell away from there.

Even now, over thirty minutes later, I’m still upset. There’s a lump in my throat and my chest still feels tight (not heart attack tight, just… Tight).

I really need to get a car.

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  1. You need pepper spray. When I was a pizza delivery girl in Airway Heights (also known as the land of pitbulls) I started carrying pepper spray. Not for the people, but for the dogs. I only had to spray one dog (I had warned the owners a million times) that LEPT THE FENCE and chased me back into my car. I used my cell phone to call the house and say that if they didn’t come out and get their dog, not only would I pepper spray it, but we wouldn’t deliver to them again. The whole time I’m on the phone, the dog is barking and growling and leaping at my closed window. The owners just laughed. One of them came to the door and called the dog, it went to him, but when I got out of my car it ran at me again. So, I sprayed it in the face. It yiped and fell down, and I got back into my car and added the house to our “black list”. The pitbull’s name was Killer…ummm…people are so stupid! I don’t blame the dog, I blame the owners who trained the poor dog to eat strangers. Blah blah blah, all that was to tell you that you need pepper spray…much cheaper than a car, and that damn Killer went down FAST! *wink*

  2. Not a bad idea, although I think killing a psycho dog with my bare hands might be more cathartic. -)

    I read an issue of a Batman comic once where he maced a jaguar. It wasn’t too happy, but it did stop attacking him.

    I don’t know. Kris and I had a run in with mace once. I almost maced myself in the face with a mace-thing (what are those called? Wands? Sticks? Sprayers?) that I thought was a flashlight. I also accidentally got capcasin in my eye a pho restaurant (like an idiot). From what I’ve heard, pepper spray is much worse than both of those. I’d hate to accidentally spray myself or someone else.

  3. True, true. I guess that shows how much more level headed you are than I am. I didn’t care, I just wanted to stop getting chased by dogs. And when you smell like pizza and are five foot two and rather slow, I needed something to give me the upper hand. Hope you have a hound free evening!

  4. Scary! I love dogs, but not the ones wandering the streets. I like the Mace idea.

  5. I guess I’ll say it before Mike or Phoenix do: I could always carry a mace.

  6. =A= mace would definitely do the trick, if you could swing it. Ahahahaha! I’m so punny. Sick…I should be shot…or maybe maced.

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