Cooper is out for a night-time jaunt. His eyesight isn’t the best so the darkness doesn’t bother him so much. With his nose to the ground it doesn’t really matter what is around him, visually anyway. It’s pretty late and the roads are quieter than usual. There probably won’t be any fellow dogs around tonight; they’re all behind closed doors, tucked up and snoring away. That’s fine, all the more smells for him. And cats. Oh, there are always cats around at night. Awesome!
He pads along, happily alert, down the pavements. The world is quieter so he can keep an ear out for noises such as a ruffling under a bush or a distant howl. There’s not much going on this evening, but that just builds the suspense. Something is out there, somewhere. Lots of things. Wow, it’s great being a dog.
He scuttles around a bend; he’d know the route to the field blindfolded and often walks it in his dreams. There are the usual obstacles and points of sniffing. The strange drain that always needs a good inspection. That car that sometimes has a tabby underneath. That bin that always seems to be overflowing and, if he’s lucky, a sandwich wrapper will have tumbled to the ground.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he sees something up ahead in the alleyway. Something that moves unnaturally. He stops dead in his tracks causing his owner’s arm to yank backwards, clutching onto his lead. Well, it’s her own fault for restraining him with a tether. Cooper’s eyes are alert and his ears prick up. What the hell IS that? The moon illuminates a strange blue peculiarity floating next to some railings. The wind picks up a little and he hears a rustling coming from it. But not like a hedgehog scampering through leaves. No. Something more alien. Something wrong.
His owner is trying to drag him onwards with the annoying leash. Doesn’t she see that he is trying to save him from something unknown, suspicious, that in all likelihood could kill them both where they stand?! She is so clueless. Does he always have to save them from the many perils of the world while she slumps along the road? With all his feet planted firmly on the ground, he is steadfastly going nowhere. He sniffs the air and ignores the barrage of words thrown in his direction. Louder words. Blah, blah, Cooper, BLAH. He dismisses them, obviously, since he has a more important task: sniffing the strange thing’s intent. But the smells in the air don’t give up any clue as to what this abnormality could be. And, dammit, if he isn’t being dragged, neck first, towards it now. She really will be the death of him.
The wind swells and the blue glowing weird rustling thing lifts into the air. WHAT. THE. HELL?! And it’s coming towards him! “AwooowooowoooowooWOOOWOOOO”, calls Cooper into the night – attempting to show the thing who’s boss. But it’s still coming for him! For them both! He can’t believe he’s going to die in an alleyway. And with an empty belly. This is just the worst. And still his owner pulls him onwards, towards their doom! What is this damn thing? It moves in such strange patterns, like it’s not in charge of its own body. Moving where the wind’s whims takes it. There are two bits on top that look like ears, maybe? But with holes in them. Where are its eyes?! For crying out loud, everything needs eyes! How can he see what its intentions might be without eye contact? Barking and trying to pull backwards, trying to save himself from the impending certain doom, the item still moves forward towards him. But wow: his owner up ahead, with no thought of her own self-preservation, makes a swoop at it in the air. She’s so brave! Brave or stupid, anyway. His own barking is definitely helping so he doubles down and barks louder and longer than before. His owner wrestles the thing from the wind, grabbing it by its neck. Neck? Screwing it up and strangling it. It’s such a battle! And she’s winning! She grapples it to the ground, saying all sorts of words (some of which he suspects are those bad words she shouldn’t use). She is victorious. The thing lies on the ground. Dead. No longer able to terrorise very brave dogs. She swoops its still corpse into the nearby bin.
Now that the thing is no longer living, Cooper jumps up to the rim of the bin and takes a gentle sniff. It doesn’t really smell of anything. Huh. He leaps back down and moves on, his mind reeling from the Battle of the Thing and the glorious victory he orchestrated. He will remember this day forever. Forever and ever.
What can you learn from your dog?
Fear of the unknown is one of our basest instincts. It’s good to be wary and approach with caution, but how many times have you said after an event you were scared of that it wasn’t anything like as bad as you had imagined. Your dog wants to address the fear. To tell it who’s boss. Maybe even tackle it head on. Can you approach your worries with your analytical head and cut them down to size?