It was now or never. Time for me to get over my crippling fear. To not let it keep me locked in my home and away from my family and friends any longer.
“You ready, Trish?” asked Sara.
The one remaining friend left who could bare to see what I’ve reduced myself down to the past 12 months. Even my sister, whom I’ve always been close with, stopped coming to visit. But she unknowingly gave me the push I needed to do something about my issue.
“I am.”
I headed toward Max: Sara’s Pomeranian. Despite his small size, I was nervous. She held onto his leash as I walked closer to him and bent down in front of him. I took a deep breath, then cautiously put my trembling hand over his head to pet him. But before I could, he barked making me fall back in terror. That’s when Sara let go of his leash and he jumped on top of me.
Instantly, memories of last year came back. I was having a nice, peaceful walk in the park when all of a sudden a giant dog jumped on me and began scratching and biting me. It took numerous people to get the Rottweiler off. It changed my life. While the visible scars disappeared, the psychological scars haven’t faded. And here I was in the same position.
But thankfully, I felt no pain. And Sara wasn’t coming to my rescue like she said she would if something bad were to happen. I opened my eyes to the realization Max wasn’t attacking me, at least not with malice, I was getting attacked with kisses. I started to laugh. It felt great to laugh again. I picked up Max and got back on my feet. I knew I wasn’t fully cured, but it was an important step.
“Could you drive me over to my mom’s house?” I asked Sara.
She happily agreed.
Sara waited in the car, as I got out and knocked on my mom’s front door. My sister answered to the shock of her life: I was somewhere other than my home with a dog.
“Can we come in and say hi to mom?”
“Of course.” She let me in and greeted me with a warm embrace.
The last visit my sister had at my house, she told me about our mom’s illness, and how if I didn’t snap out of this pity party I was having, I may lose them both for good. It was tough, but it was the tough love I needed. My mom didn’t tell me because she didn’t want to burden me with any more problems. She was always so strong. I needed to be the strong one this time.
I walked into her room.
“Hi, Mom. This is Max. He and I wanted to come see how you’re doing.”
I’ve never seen her smile that big in my life.
“You ready, Trish?” asked Sara.
The one remaining friend left who could bare to see what I’ve reduced myself down to the past 12 months. Even my sister, whom I’ve always been close with, stopped coming to visit. But she unknowingly gave me the push I needed to do something about my issue.
“I am.”
I headed toward Max: Sara’s Pomeranian. Despite his small size, I was nervous. She held onto his leash as I walked closer to him and bent down in front of him. I took a deep breath, then cautiously put my trembling hand over his head to pet him. But before I could, he barked making me fall back in terror. That’s when Sara let go of his leash and he jumped on top of me.
Instantly, memories of last year came back. I was having a nice, peaceful walk in the park when all of a sudden a giant dog jumped on me and began scratching and biting me. It took numerous people to get the Rottweiler off. It changed my life. While the visible scars disappeared, the psychological scars haven’t faded. And here I was in the same position.
But thankfully, I felt no pain. And Sara wasn’t coming to my rescue like she said she would if something bad were to happen. I opened my eyes to the realization Max wasn’t attacking me, at least not with malice, I was getting attacked with kisses. I started to laugh. It felt great to laugh again. I picked up Max and got back on my feet. I knew I wasn’t fully cured, but it was an important step.
“Could you drive me over to my mom’s house?” I asked Sara.
She happily agreed.
Sara waited in the car, as I got out and knocked on my mom’s front door. My sister answered to the shock of her life: I was somewhere other than my home with a dog.
“Can we come in and say hi to mom?”
“Of course.” She let me in and greeted me with a warm embrace.
The last visit my sister had at my house, she told me about our mom’s illness, and how if I didn’t snap out of this pity party I was having, I may lose them both for good. It was tough, but it was the tough love I needed. My mom didn’t tell me because she didn’t want to burden me with any more problems. She was always so strong. I needed to be the strong one this time.
I walked into her room.
“Hi, Mom. This is Max. He and I wanted to come see how you’re doing.”
I’ve never seen her smile that big in my life.
