This morning there was a dog.
And by dog, I mean this big fluffy black dog that was blocking my way and completely trapped in the corridor. The only way to breakfast was the corridor. The only way to the outside (where I could go buy something if I wanted) was the corridor.
What stood between me and food (and I hadn't even since two PM yesterday), was this dog.
Only here's the problem.
Something not a lot of people know.
I am actually afraid of dogs.
Especially strange dogs.
Logically, I knew the dog was probably harmless. I couldn't imagine my host mom letting something into her house that was dangerous.
But that was logically.
I approached the glass door, and the dog stared at me. It did not seem friendly.
I retreated to my room.
I texted my host mother.
No reply.
I tried again, shaking, opening the glass door and stared the dog down in the corner. He didn't budge. Neither forward nor backward. My heart started pounding. I closed the door, and went back in my room.
I checked my texts. No reply.
At this point it was getting stupid.
A wave of laughter came over me as I considered the dog and all that this entailed.
A (likely) harmless dog, stood between me and my breakfast. There was no real danger (probably) only my fears.
Yet I couldn't move forward.
I started cracking up in my bedroom.
A fluffy dog was stopping me from living my life. What a metaphor!
Finally, in hopes of getting some kind of clarity, I texted one of my good friends who lives in California. Typically, he gives some pretty good advice.
I told him about the dog. At that point, I'd been avoiding the dog for 20 minutes.
His reply? "Just do it, tell it good dog, and be on your way,"
I looked out my window. The dog was now in the garden before the hall. Well, at least I could run, if I needed to.
Reader, I swear my heart was pounding in my throat.
And there was such a touch of irony to the whole thing. We own a dog. I've had dogs my whole life.
Yet this fluffy black dog was causing me to shake like crazy. And in addition, when I'd gone into the corridor for a bit, I'd heard voices. My other phobia.
Walking into a space and interrupting with people I don't know! I thought about not eating. But I also knew I was expected and the look I knew I would get from my host family and additionally, not eating when I was hungry seemed stupid.
So with my friend's encouragement, I faced the dog.
Well, faced is an overstatement. I went up to him, staying four feet away. I put my hand out and talked in bad French. I referred to him formally, in VOUS, (which is the equivalent of talking to a dog like you'd talk to your boss).
He just stared at me.
I was going to have to make my move.
I briskly walked past him.
He did absolutely nothing except for try to follow me back inside.
I closed the door, shaking, and made it to the main door of the house. One down and one to go.
I could hear the voices.
I considered going back or out and walking aimlessly, but it seemed stupid, even to me, plus if I went out, I'd have to go past the dog and get my bag. NOPE.
I opened the door.
There were a lot of people and three of them were looking at me curiously as I came in.
I took a deep breath. I saw my host father, I said in my nervous French (which gets worse when I'm nervous or tired) Good morning and I hoped I wasn't bothering anyone.
My host dad said of course not, and waved me to the table.
Reader, there were croissants, good ones. Melt in your mouth good ones. And everyone was nice.
But of course.
My host mom.
She looked at me sideway.
"You're not afraid of the dog, are you?" she asked.
I admitted that I was.
She looked surprised and amused. "No!" she said. "Of him? Noooo."
The dog had been let inside and was now sleeping harmlessly.
He was fluffy and cute.
I managed something akin the lines that I'd texted her.
She checked her phone, saying she apologized, she'd had it off.
She sat down. She read my message. And then she started giggling. (And she has the sweetest laugh).
For reader, this is what I had written.
"There's a dog in the corridor. Will it bother him if I get breakfast?"
The giggles intensified until she was full on laughing. She showed my host father who also seemed amused.
I laughed with her, laughing until tears pricked my eyes.
I mentioned I'd avoided the dog for 20 minutes.
She continued to laugh.
It was so bizarre, and the metaphor aspect was not lost on me.
We stopped laughing and the topic turned to other things.
Then, about 10 minutes later, my alarm went off.
She looked at me curiously.
I explained (badly) that I had an alarm to make a decision. I had to explain it a few times, but she finally got it, and once again she was amused. Only a smile and some good natured teasing this time.
And then the 2nd alarm went off.
She turned to me.
"And that was one is for?" she asked, her eyes amused, "For making another decision?" Her smile warm, but very amused, she was waiting for a response, her wit sparkling.
"I'm not responding to that," I said pointedly.
She laughed. "You're French comprehension is getting better," she said.
I finished my food, still very much imitated by the social anxiety and not wanting to be a bother.
But let this be a lesson to you all.
Sometimes the only thing standing in the way is a cute fluffy black dog, and your own fears.
~ Emery
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