Don’t Tell Me Your Dog Won’t Hurt Me

And I Won’t Wave My Snake in Your Face

If there’s one thing that can ruin a walk in the woods, it’s running into a strange dog on the trail. I’m not as afraid of dogs as I used to be and I can even tell a friendly dog from a threatening one-but I prefer to meet neither when I go for a walk.

I am a belly dancer and I dance with a snake. Chloe, a four-and-a-half foot long ball python, is as gentle as a kitten. I am in a Facebook group with people who name their snakes Sally, Kevin, Lilith, Severus. We love our “noodles” and share endless photos and suggestions for improving their quality of life.

I understand that some people are afraid of snakes. I also understand that this is an understatement. Some people are so afraid of snakes that they can’t be my friend on Facebook because of the pictures of my snake on my page.

Some readers scrolled right past this essay when they saw the word snake.

Once at the local pet store, I was holding a docile ball python, supporting it with two hands, when I glanced out the window to see a woman staring at me with a look of absolute horror on her face. She recoiled, jumping back so quickly that she stumbled right off the curb and into the parking lot.

“Relax lady,” I wanted to say to her, “this little guy won’t hurt you!”

But I get why she is scared of snakes because I feel the same way about dogs.

My fear of dogs started when I was a toddler and was knocked down by a neighbor’s exuberant german shepherd puppy. My dad picked me up, held me tight, comforted me and then whisked me away. After that my parents always made a point of keeping dogs and me apart, inadvertently reinforcing my fear. I’ve spent a good deal of energy avoiding dogs. I am so hyper-aware of them that I can hear the jangle of a dog collar nearly a mile away.

The worst is when friends try to convince me that their dog won’t hurt me. I can’t make them understand that telling me not to be afraid does not help. I know how ridiculous it is to be afraid of their best friend. Even so, although my mind says not to be scared, my body doesn’t listen.

It’s hard to get people to understand my fear of dogs because most people find them as lovable as I find Chloe. The closest I can come is to say to them “I get that it is fun to let your dog off leash to frolic in the woods, but how would you like to meet a python on the path? Do you think it would make you feel any better if I yelled ‘Chloe won’t hurt you. She’s just curious,’ as your worst nightmare quickly slithered toward you?”

When I am performing at a school, museum or library, I only bring Chloe along if she is invited. Event organizers are usually very clear about whether they want a ball python at their Harry Potter fair or Friends of the Library meeting. It’s very important that the audience be told in advance that a snake will be present. Nobody wants to be surprised by an animal they aren’t comfortable with.

Whenever I dance with Chloe, I offer a question and answer period afterward and I let people touch her. It is my pleasure to try to educate people out of their fear of snakes.

It was a good day when a young woman on a library’s teen advisory committee told me, as she patted Chloe tentatively “I was afraid of snakes until I saw you dance with Chloe.”

I’ve begun to get over my fear of dogs by learning about them. My husband Frank, a dog lover, has helped me gradually feel more relaxed. “Look at the grey around his muzzle,” Frank will say as we ride our bikes toward a scruffy black dog standing in the middle of the road.“He’s so old, he doesn’t want to chase you. And besides, he couldn’t catch you if he tried.”

Over time I’ve learned to read a dog’s body language to determine whether it is friend or foe. That doesn’t mean I want yours to come bounding up to me when I’m on the trail.

So here’s the deal. I know you love your canine companion. But please - keep it away from me on the trail, and I’ll leave my snake at home.

Karen’s goals for 2021 include finishing her MFA thesis and dressing like a Star Trek alien from a utopian planet. Her Creative Nonfiction and poetry have appeared in Brevity, NPR’s The New Normal, Straw Dog Writer’s Guild Pandemic Poetry and Prose, Multiplicity and Voices of the Valley Anthology.