Today was a lovely sunny summer day. I did as people sometimes do on days like this: I went for a walk. I encountered other people walking and smiling along the way, and an unusually large number of them said hello in passing. I saw mountains and tall trees off in the distance. It was all very pleasant. In the context of all this pleasantness, I also met a dachshund who was having none of me.
I walked along a sidewalk on the side of the street opposite this cantankerous hound’s house. He was in his yard with two children, the older of whom looked to be about five years old. When this dog --who, I learned later, answered to the name of Butters --saw me coming within 200 feet of his house, he began barking. When I was within 100 feet, he charged me, heading across the street and straight for my ankles. The five-year-old ran after him, out into the street, calling for him to stop.
Prepare yourself for the lesson learned.
Nothing happened.
Butters made it to my left ankle and sniffed my offered hand --the hand was offered both as reassurance I was no threat, and in case Butters decided to bite me, since it’s hard to get dogs off of a bare ankle. He backed off slowly while barking, making sure I knew he was still watching as I walked on. Neither the boy nor the dog got hit by a car. They both made it safely back to their yard.
The child’s mother --the owner of the dog --called to them from the sidewalk of the next house over. “Butters,” she called with that sort of half-hearted admonishment that stands in for an asschewing nowadays. “Honey, don’t run into the street,” she called to her son from where she stood (she had been conversing with the neighbor --and she went back to her conversation immediately).
Nothing happened.
And it had barely registered with the person responsible for the small dog and the young child that nothing happened, and that it was a very lucky thing nothing had. Nothing happened in spite of what she had done, not because of anything she had done.
The conditions were these:
- Butters, a ferocious sausage-shaped beastie, was on the loose. This was not my first encounter with Butters, it must be said, but it was my closest. Butters is ferocious and very, very brave and has a tendency to try to chase people off.
- A five-year-old was in charge of Butters, and without the benefit of a fence or a leash.
- They live right on a street with passing cars --the only barrier between the yard and the street being a sidewalk.
- If the five-year-old had ever been taught prior to today not to run into the street, it was not immediately obvious.
- It would be impossible to teach Butters not to run into the street because nobody tells Butters what to do.
Many times, we set up conditions similar to these in our lives, so I have no room to criticize. We react rather than being proactive. It’s hard to be proactive. I would argue, though, it’s harder to be reactive.
It’d be far easier to put Butters on a leash, for example, if we know how Butters is, than to have to take him to the vet after he’s hit by a car. It makes no sense to hope he would spontaneously decide, “You know what? I don’t really feel like protecting the family today.” In my own life, an equivalent situation would be buying ice cream and thinking I can do moderation. I can, but it’s not likely. If it’s really a problem, I don’t bring home ice cream. N.B.: A dog being hit by a car is way worse than the damage I can do to a carton of ice cream. I understand this.
It’d be far easier to talk to a five-year-old about what he should do if Butters charges into the street, and maybe practice ahead of time not running into the street after Butters, than to ...you get where I’m going with that, based on the example above. I hate to mention that as a possibility, even if it is. A less-traumatic equivalent in my own life would be the fire and lockdown drills we do at school every month. Preparing won’t make the real situation happen, but if it happens, we will know what to do and it’s easier to inhibit a panicked response.
And a larger lesson than all the preachy, preachy proactivity: today was a lovely sunny summer day. I encountered an unusually large number of people who said hello in passing. I saw mountains and tall trees while I was out walking. Butters taught me a lesson, and no one got hurt. It was all very pleasant.
No comments:
Post a Comment