For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a fear of dogs. It seems to run in the family; both my mother and grandmother suffered from the same fear. While fear in children of entities that frighten their caretakers is arguably a survival instinct, I’m fully aware that my particular fear is seemingly unfounded. Dogs, after all, injure or kill very few people.
Many may see my fear as unreasonable, and yes, I’m not overtly terrified of the prospects of injury or death. I’m no stranger to pain and I’ve come to terms with my own mortality. I don’t tend to be a fearful person in general. I’m quite comfortable with public speaking, despite its ranking as a common fear, and spent the majority of my career as a university lecturer, addressing large groups of mostly unwilling students.
I even enjoy solo travel, often venturing to countries where I cannot decipher the language and feel sufficiently confident exploring cities after dark on my own. I can also frequently be found cycling in the heart of Dublin. Yet, my fear of dogs is so profound that, unless I’m feeling particularly courageous that day, I find it impossible to pass an unleashed dog on the street.
Assurances that the canine is friendly do nothing to alleviate my fear, similar to how telling someone with a fear of public speaking that the audience won’t physically harm them doesn’t help. I will go to extreme, embarrassing lengths to prevent any interaction with the dog, notwithstanding its nature or disposition. I’m not seeking a new four-legged friend; I merely wish for dogs to maintain their distance from me.
On the whole, I’ve observed that individuals who walk their dogs in Ireland tend to be more considerate than their English counterparts. Numerous dog-walkers along my customary jogging paths are mindful enough to recall or restrain their pets as soon as they see me, acknowledging my phobia. Occasionally, a fellow jogger will offer to guide me if I happen to be cornered by dogs, causing a wave of panic. I often opt for early morning runs to allow me to enjoy the sea before the dogs appear. My chosen trail is the eastern pier which provides ample staircases for me to evade any unleashed canines. Great enthusiast of trekking as I am, I will not hesitate to abandon or alter my route if an unattended dog is present. Having a large, ideally prickly, stick as a defense tool instils a sense of security in me, even though I have no intention of resorting to using it.
Previously, I would attempt to neutralise the disturbance I felt from dogs for the owners’ sake and maintain my poise in public, wresting control over my plunging fear while trying to act normal as my heart pounded, hands trembled, intestines churned, and every nerve in me urged to flee. I do not employ that technique anymore. Most dog-walkers may only perceive me as a frightened woman with untamed grey hair, with a handful understanding my ordeal.
My showing of fear is a representation for those who are unable to express their true feelings publicly. Over time, I have come to understand that cynophobia, the fear of dogs, is quite prevalent, it’s just more distressing for males as they are traditionally not supposed to exhibit fear. I can openly express my discomfort around dogs, I can say “Please manage your dog, I am scared.”. My husband, on the other hand, resorting to an exasperated eye roll, would inform “My wife has a fear of dogs, could you leash your dog?”. Hiding behind vehicles or deciding to stay in them, ascending trees, all these actions might label me hysterical or neurotic, but as a challenging woman, I am accustomed to such reactions.
There are men I know whose dread of dogs is as palpable and extreme as mine. However, these men often avoid parks, keep their fear to themselves on beaches, or decline hiking in countries with free roaming dogs, for the simple reason that society deprived them of their right to express fear since their childhood days. This societal restriction on expressing fear is an inadvertent patriarchal harm caused to men as well. To my kin, I’m prepared to bear this irrational fear for all of us.