And The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon

I'm the type of person who likes a little bit of everything. I prefer buffets over plated dinners, my menagerie of animals didn't stop at cats and dogs and,  I can usually be found doing a number of different activities (sometimes all at once). 

If at any point one of these many plates I have spinning doesn't suit me anymore,  I deftly smash the plate and hoist the next. Complacency and apathy are my mortal enemies.

When new friends are getting to know me,  they often look at me,  then at cool,  calculated and very busy, Target and wonder if I've become like him, or if he's become like me.

I've been this way since I was a little kid,  often to the chagrin of my parents who had to keep up with a flurry of activity changes and indecision. I always decided that I really wanted to do... something!

And I really wanted to be awesome doing it!

And I really wanted to start doing it and being awesome doing it right now!

This was the way all of my activities started.  I wanted to be an awesome ice skater,  Akkido master, softball rookie of the year and piano player. I wanted to draw, sing and dance. I wanted to do it all, intensely, and  awesomely with absolutely no learning curve.

I'm actually laughing about this while I write it.  I'm sure it took a considerable number of years for life to beat the maniacal perfectionist out of me,  but on the odd occasion it still surfaces (Aka I wouldn't advise playing board games with me...)

All of these activities began to tip off my radar like falling dominoes pieces when it became abundantly clear that, without hard work and active motivation I wasn't going to be awesome at any of these things, let alone right away.

Except for one thing.  I wanted to horseback ride.  Anybody who has kids or has watched enough family sitcoms can hear the conversation:

"Mo'om (upward inflection), I reaaalllly want to. It won't be like the other stuff" and this time,  I was right.

Horseback Riding was perfect for me. Finely marked, mildly controllable, adventure, that included animals and the ability to go really fast!

A lot of the lessons I learned about horses as a child have come in handy in my later life, with other humans, but especially with my dogs. 

A horse can sense how you're feeling when you're near them.  It's all part of their herd mentality. This is even more true when you're sitting on the back of the horse directing him.

My instructor always used to say "you're the driver!". But,  there comes an issue with sensitive people leading sensitive horses (or dogs). That issue is,  the sensitive person notices the feeling,  but isn't as adept at reading the herd/ pack mentality as the animal.

A horse or dog may see the same butterfly a hundred times, but on that hundred and first time,  the light hits it from a different angle and that butterfly suddenly becomes a blood sucking demon. The animal's reaction to being afraid,  scares the human,  the human acting afraid solidifies the animal's fear.

Before you know it, the dish ran away with the spoon and a butterfly is still just a butterfly.   

The sensitive human has started a chain reaction that ripples through every horse, dog, sensitive human and fence post within a 5 mile radius.

This was something I had to be very aware of when it came to Target. Was what he was reacting to actually scary or was I afraid of the consequences of his reaction?

I never wanted to be one of those people who had to worry about their dog biting somebody,  but my worry about worrying seemed to compound an issue that started, simply,  with a wind blown jacket.

The attention I had to pay to my own emotions for the sake of Target, led me to thinking about people and fear in general. It's no secret that people use fear to manipulate situations or each other to their advantage; but I can't help but wonder how many times we're all freaking each other out without the understanding that we're doing it.

Are people my age actually afraid of clowns? Or did enough people in my generation experience "It" to influence all of those who didn't to induce an irrational fear of clowns? Sorry Ronald McDonald,  it isn't high cholesterol that made you unpopular, it was actually Stephen King.

My point is, I've never met an animal who is "just" an animal. The insight I've gained about people from my understanding of animals is the most priceless gift I've ever been given.