Life stuff: Yerba Mensa #11 Fear & Friends

Anyone who knows me, also knows that I have 2 amazing dogs, Henry and Rose. They are Black Labs, liter mates, and inseparable. Not just from each other mind you, but from me too, the "den mother." Wherever I am in the house, Henry and Rose are right there too, as close as they can get. If you are reading this and are a dog person, I know you totally get it. I am amazed at all the life lessons I have learned thru the experience of owning and loving these crazy dogs. Here is one lesson for you:

I hate to think about this, but Henry & Rose are getting old. They are just shy of turning 14. As a result, there are some new little “issues” popping up that we have to face. One such issue is the wood stairway in our 2-story home, which we recently have nicknamed, "The stairway of death."

Henry’s back legs are losing strength. He lost his footing recently while walking down the stairway and slid all the way down on his belly. As a result of this terrifying experience, every single time we (the three of us; Me, Henry, and Rose, remember we move as a group) want to go downstairs (like 3000 times a day, but who’s counting, right?) He will NOT go down unless I stand at the top of the stair with him, put my arm around him, and talk him thru it til he gets his footing. This is a tedious experience and one I am growing weary of. If I go downstairs without him, he will stand at the top of the "stairway of death" and bark until I come to his rescue. Ugh. The idea of a dog nanny is not sounding so dumb now. Poor Henry. I guess even dogs can have "post traumatic stress syndrome."

This whole ordeal has made me think about my own fear. It is an emotion we all deal with just being alive on this planet. We have a bad experience with a person, a situation, an event in our life, and we decide to avoid anything we blame as a potential catalyst for this. Sometimes fear can protect us as it can keep us from doing something stupid... again.
BUT sometimes fear disables us from taking worthwhile chances, which isn't a good thing. I guess that part of growing up is our ability to recognize the right risks to take, and even more, when to ask for a little help.

There is not a good reason for Henry to try the stairs by himself again. He still has the same bad legs, so I can't really blame him for being afraid. But he also knows he MUST get down the stairs as they provide the passage way to everything he needs: food, the yard, water, cookies, frosty paws (yes, my dogs have their own ice cream ), etc. So... I will keep helping him. And I will remember that when I face my own fear, not to resist the help of the amazing people in my life. We all have a "stairway of death" to overcome. It doesn't matter if you need help going down it - what matter's is that you get down.