WRITING PROMPT RESPONSE

The Story of How One Furry Friend Healed My Fear of Dogs

Or how I got dogs into my life

I was standing on the beach walk, the wind was blowing through my hair, and the ocean was roaring just meters away. Then he spotted me. He sprinted tail-waggingly and with the biggest smile on his face, right toward me. I was smiling.

Until today, I have no idea how and why I developed this fear of dogs. I was terrified of dogs as much as I hated them. My mom didn’t record any traumatic experience and didn’t understand why I was like that.

One time, I was still a toddler and my parents had hiked up to a mountain cottage in the Alps. We sat down inside to eat when I began to scream hysterically. There was a dog inside the room. They moved outside and sat down on the only free table. With a dog sitting right underneath. I didn’t mind.

Why was the one okay and the other not? I don’t know.

Anyhow, this fear only became worse as a teenager when I would often go inline skating across the fields and end up being chased by dogs off the leash. Of course, they would feel my fear. Of course, I knew I shouldn’t show any fear. And of course, I knew I should stand still when they approached me, but I was scared!

My mom never understood why. She loved dogs. But my mom grew up in the countryside in Romania having dogs, cats, and all other animals at their farm. I grew up in an apartment in Germany with no other animals inside than spiders and flies. How should I build a relationship or even an understanding of pets? I never touched a cat until I was 21. But that’s a different story.

There was, however, one dog. One dog I loved, touched, and played with. Bessi was a collie as far as I knew and lived on the farm in Romania at my mom’s aunt.

It was 1998 when we were back in Romania for a visit and stayed for a few days at the house. Bessi played fetch with me and even football. She was very friendly and well-trained.

The next time we visited, Bessi no longer was and got replaced with a German shepherd kept on a leash. That dog killed a young sparrow I had saved, but jumped away frightened when the dog approached me.

I cried.

And I wanted Bessi back.

After that scenario, my fear got worse, and it sounded like the story between me and the dogs was over. Done and dusted. I touched a crocodile in the wild but wouldn’t dare to pet a dog. Any dog.

2014 and my big African adventure

Fast forward to 2014, when I finished my studies and stepped onto a plane to explore Africa. Stray dogs didn’t bother me much, but more and more people in my surroundings had dogs at home. I stayed in a host family with a small dog, but that one was only allowed in the yard, barked when I arrived but didn’t come close to me. I could deal with that.

Occasionally, I would stay at hostels or other guesthouses with dogs, but usually, I would manage just fine avoiding them. Not always, though. Sometimes, I would need to lock myself indoors.

I was staying at a guest farm in South Africa. They had antelopes and zebras grazing out front and a little dog inside the premises. Apparently, I did not manage to avoid that one.

When I sat down on the couch of the communal room in the evening, he jumped up and made himself comfortable on top of me. And I accepted it. Somehow. I didn’t pet him but just let him be.

The beginning of the change?

2015 and the year a dog was brought into my life

Or I was introduced into his life?

After traveling for half a year through several African countries, I was offered a job to work for a season as a sandboarding instructor in Namibia. That’s another story, but it’s how I ended up living in the country for five years.

I was staying in a flat in the backyard of my boss's house. She had a dog. I knew that when I met him the first few times I went sandboarding. Still as a tourist. However, I didn’t know how quickly I had to learn to get used to him.

The day I arrived at her doorstep, she told me she’d fly home to the States for three weeks, and I’d be the one running her company, looking after the house, dog, and cat.

I mean, I knew nothing about sandboarding apart from the fact I could snowboard. I knew nothing about running a company. But I wasn’t worried about that.

I had to take care of a dog. I had to feed him and walk with him.

I had to live with a dog who would possibly sleep in my bed as I moved into the main house for the time my boss was gone.

And I did.

Zak is an Irish Terrier and was diagnosed with Eddison's disease, a human disease. He had just gotten his pills and began to grow back fur and get stronger day by day.

He is a working dog following my former boss (and friend) every day onto the dunes. He’d run down after her. And me. He loves kids, is kind, well-behaved and soon turned into a fluffy ball of fur.

And Zak did not care I was scared of dogs and didn’t like him.

He loved me from day one.

He would follow me everywhere I went. First, that meant on the dunes. Up and down.

The week passed, my boss left with instructions and lists and now Zak was my best buddy and assistant on the dunes.

He would protect me. Or us. And bark at anyone arriving within a radius of several kilometers. He’d never attack anyone but nobody could say he didn’t warn us.

He would ride back with me in the old VW Combi sticking his head out of the window and making everyone pass me smile. They’d recognize the dog and greet it while I had no idea who it was.

He was and still is famous in town.

As I got into a group of active friends, Zak would follow me to all the activities.

Rock climbing in the riverbed? He came with us.

Surfing or walking on the beach?

He was there.

Partying? He would definitely be there. And he would share the hangover with me the next day too. Partying all night long he would be so tired to sleep under the cars and not climb the dunes.

And yes, when I first closed the door to my bedroom, it didn’t last very long and there he was. Sleeping on my bed. Also, at night.

2016 and our first reunion

I left Namibia in December 2015 to spend the winter in Germany, get my snowboard instructor license, and returned in March 2016.

Zak was not allowed in my room. He knew that. But he was so excited when I returned after weeks back he couldn’t help but cross the line. I went inside to shower (and yes, I always left the door to the yard wide open), and when I came out, he was sitting there. Inside, just meters into the room as he knew he wasn’t actually allowed but he had to be there.

A year of more adventures began. I was an active girl and went on many walks with him and with the kids of my friends over there. Through the desert, of course.

2017 road trips and other fun

Zak had long healed my fear of dogs and I was so thankful for it, as I don’t know how I would have survived otherwise. All my friends in Namibia had and have dogs. There is no way of going anywhere without encountering a dog.

One day, I drove somewhere in a friend’s little VW Polo. And while we put Zak on the back seat, a few kilometers into the drive, I looked into the rear mirror and there he was. On top of the boot.

We laughed so much.

We spent endless hours playing and running along the beach. He was my walking buddy. Sometimes I’d run. Sometimes I’d walk. He was happy with whatever.

We also walked into the riverbed; he barked at some camels but then realized how much larger they were and decided to back off and let them be.

Zak wasn’t the most photogenic dog but sometimes I’d manage to get a cool shot of us. Like on this cycling adventure.

He’d play with us cards. Yes, again, inside my room.

And he would make himself comfortable wherever we’d go.

He came fishing and would jump into the back of whatever car I would arrive in.

But Zak hated getting a bath.

He hated it like nothing else.

His mom gave up showering him in the bathtub as he would freak out and make a mess in the bathroom and so the garden hose it was. And since I built such a strong connection with him, I’d get him to do it the best of all friends. He still hated it, but I managed to get him clean.

For five seconds.

Then he’d roll in the sand again.

2018 and more about Zak

Zak wasn’t the most active dog when the sun was shining, but luckily in Swakopmund, on the coastline, we often had foggy days. And that was when he would explode with energy.

He has some flaws as well. Or maybe one.

He has zero understanding of personal space.

And he wasn’t the born hunter. Luckily.

He often would chase lizards around the dunes. Without any success. Ever. Which is why we allowed him to do just that. It would just tire him. The lizard would usually sit on top of a dune and laugh with us.

Zak loves sitting on top of the dune and supervising everything and everyone.

Oh, and here is Zak with mom.

Did I mention how Zak followed me everywhere? Yes, he climbed the rocks in the desert with no hesitation.

Because he had to look after me. I was young and sometimes still silly and naive.

This was the time I got into night photography. Each night, having a camp in the desert, I would walk away from the group for about half an hour, set up my camera, press the shutter and wait for the result of the long exposure.

Just to see my buddy followed me and sat right in front of me.

To protect me, of course. Of all those wild animals I was never aware or scared of.

Zak was a dog who got along with all humans and dogs. But those tiny ‘rats’ as I call them. Any dog that could fit into a handbag. He couldn’t stand them. If puppy or not.

And so I learned that from him. To remain skeptical of the small ones.

If we walked in town and there were small dogs coming toward us, Zak would switch to the other side of the road. And I followed him.

In 2019, a lot changed as I left Namibia and only came back for shorter visits, but haven’t lived there anymore long-term. However, I am still in contact with my friend and will visit Zak the day I return to Namibia.

And since this is getting way too long, I am going to stop here and continue in part two.

This is a writing prompt response to this month's challenge of Weeds & Wildflowers. See other participants and their responses below:

Louise Peacock with “Dogs I have known…part one”, “Part Two” and “Part Three”

Jenny Wren with “For the Love of a Mutt”

Ken Martin with “Do Dogs Like Poetry?”

Susan Alison with “PupperJack has a Fetish for Towels — As Long as They’re 100% Combed Cotton”

Daphsam with “Maximus, My Little Warrior In The End”

Dennett with “The Dogs of My Life”

Christine Morris Ph.D. with “O’Driscoll, My Boy”

Rhonda Carrier with “Loki, My New Furry Friend”

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