And the short answer to that is yes! I am. The long answer would probably take some complicated words that I am incapable of spelling at this hour
However. We have a routine here. Dawg has his supper and I take him out for a walk. Hubby takes him to work all day so it's 'My time" I know, how twee.
Any old how. Tonight the rain was beating on our conservatory roof (oh behave yourselves, it's tiny and our whole house is probably smaller than your hallway) and I said to hubs, "should I take the dog?. NO he said in this weather are you kidding" But. Dawg doesn't speak human. Oh he'll sniff your crotch at the drop of a hat, but it's not the same language. So he gave me his sad eyed look, and jumped about on his front paws looking out of the window, and I caved (no I did). so we went, into the driving rain and the howling wind. He with flashing collar (well, how else can you see a black dog on a dark night?) and me with torch and wellies. Yes! Just torch and wellies, well, there was no one about. Have you seen the weather?
I was soaked, he was soaked. But he had a big pooh (too much information probably) and we encountered Mr Toad, who lives near the pond at the back of our house. He is SO cute, if you aren't frightened by reptiles that is (I'm not) He was a lovely specimen, abit knobbly and sat in a big puddle, he blinked abit when I shone the torch on him, and jumped when Dawg sniffed him, but apart from that he was fine.
I thought about my two best friends who are terrified of frogs and toads, Then I stopped laughing and wondered what I would do if confronted by an enormous spider? Well Crap myself is the truth. I know, I know, completely irrational, but I can't cope. My failing and it harks back to when one (not very big) ran up my leg as a child.
I would like to get over it, but I can't do immersion therapy, where you have to handle a tarantula, eeeugh just saying it gives me the shivers?? Why? I don't know. I remember when my first marriage broke up and I was alone in the living room after No.1 son had gone to bed. Reading happily and this THING. I am not saying it was big, but it had the vacuum cleaner in one hand and was wearing my boots, scuttled through from the dining room. I (not usually being one to talk to myself) said OH SHIT really loudly and smacked it firmly with my book. I feel so guilty. I HATE killing anything and I wish I could get over it. Ummmmmmmmmmmmm
It must be late coz I started off walking the dawg in all weathers and ended up with my worst phobias.
I'll go now, just in case I'm tempted to tell you about the neighbour the vicar and the teapot. Now..... That would really be a scandal.
