How a Dog Show on TV Changed Me

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I used to fear dogs of all sizes: tiny, small, medium, big and huge. Especially when they barked. And if they did not, I would get even more scared. They looked like always ready to get a piece of human--me. The really cute ones with hair much longer and silkier than mine, I did not care much about. But they certainly did make me wonder what was wrong with my hair or with my shampoo.

I grew up in a rural farm where dogs were mostly stray. They were never on leash. They roamed the neighborhood, with houses few and far between, with or without their masters. I doubt if any were ever trained for proper dog behavior. But they knew the basics: run to their master when called or whistled to. To people other than their master or family, they were not too civil: they barked, bit, or barked and bit. So I survived with other kids where our normal reaction upon seeing a dog from a distance was to either freeze and cry, or to run away as fast as we could. In many of these situations we would have been bitten had it not been for a brother or father to dart us away from those sharp shiny fangs.

And then I find myself today in a world where not only do humans and dogs co-exist peacefully, but that every man and his uncle's dog are on very friendly terms. There are as many dogs as there are humans in the park and on the trail I run with my husband every other day. Each time I would see a dog, my childhood memories of sharp shiny fangs would all come back. My heart would always miss a beat and I would take cover behind my husband. Most of these dogs would really sniff at me to a full stop. And then they would go. Some would even come charging up to me. And the owner would say it is ok. It was never OK for me.

But then, the owners were right. The dogs did not bite. They just scared me. One night I saw on TV somebody who calls himself the Dog Whisperer. First time I have heard of him, Cesar Millan was supposedly fast making a name as a dog behavior specialist and was being featured on the O'Reilly Factor. His unique principle about rehabilitating dogs and training humans piqued my interest. My husband and I followed him on the National Geographic channel and pretty soon we were watching his programs on demand. One day I asked my husband, Can we have a dog? A few shows more, each time followed by the same question. Dog days came and went. Then I had Otis. How I got him, who he is, our many adventures and misadventures together will be the continuing thread of this series. I mean Otis.

Have a dog day! And I mean well.

I used to fear dogs of all sizes: tiny, small, medium, big and huge. Especially when they barked. And if they did not, I would get even more scared. They looked like always ready to get a piece of human--me. The really cute ones with hair much longer and silkier than mine, I did not care much about. But they certainly did make me wonder what was wrong with my hair or with my shampoo.

I grew up in a rural farm where dogs were mostly stray. They were never on leash. They roamed the neighborhood, with houses few and far between, with or without their masters. I doubt if any were ever trained for proper dog behavior. But they knew the basics: run to their master when called or whistled to. To people other than their master or family, they were not too civil: they barked, bit, or barked and bit. So I survived with other kids where our normal reaction upon seeing a dog from a distance was to either freeze and cry, or to run away as fast as we could. In many of these situations we would have been bitten had it not been for a brother or father to dart us away from those sharp shiny fangs.

And then I find myself today in a world where not only do humans and dogs co-exist peacefully, but that every man and his uncle's dog are on very friendly terms. There are as many dogs as there are humans in the park and on the trail I run with my husband every other day. Each time I would see a dog, my childhood memories of sharp shiny fangs would all come back. My heart would always miss a beat and I would take cover behind my husband. Most of these dogs would really sniff at me to a full stop. And then they would go. Some would even come charging up to me. And the owner would say it is ok. It was never OK for me.

But then, the owners were right. The dogs did not bite. They just scared me. One night I saw on TV somebody who calls himself the Dog Whisperer. First time I have heard of him, Cesar Millan was supposedly fast making a name as a dog behavior specialist and was being featured on the O'Reilly Factor. His unique principle about rehabilitating dogs and training humans piqued my interest. My husband and I followed him on the National Geographic channel and pretty soon we were watching his programs on demand. One day I asked my husband, Can we have a dog? A few shows more, each time followed by the same question. Dog days came and went. Then I had Otis. How I got him, who he is, our many adventures and misadventures together will be the continuing thread of this series. I mean Otis.

Have a dog day! And I mean well.

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