Back in the Bad Old
Days, when I was a practicing Real Estate Broker, I used to drive around
the country every day showing land to customers. I’ll not trouble you
with the disadvantages of that system, but one of the interesting
windfalls was that I got to meet a LOT of pretty unusual characters.
One I remember in
particular was a lady, probably in her early forties, who told me that,
prior to her trip to my office, she’d never been outside Los Angeles.
Honest, I’m not
making this up.
Another thing that I
remember about her was that she called home three times a day to check
with the woman who was sitting her dogs. Not that there’s anything
WRONG with that, mind you. I just sticks in my mind because I never saw
anyone check on their kids that much.
Well, I drove her
all over creation, or at least the Ozark version of creation, for two or
three days. During the middle of one afternoon, we were passing down one
of the zillion or so back-county gravel roads hereabouts, past a small
farmhouse, when a large collie came running out of the yard barking at
us.
I was just about to
deliver the punch line of one of my remarkably humorous stories, when I
turned to my passenger, not wishing to miss her appreciation of my
profound wit.
Her face was frozen
in terror. Her eyes were as big as saucers and she was making a strange
"ACK-ACK-ACK!!" noise deep in her throat.
This was *not* the
sort of reaction I’d hoped for.
As quickly as I
could, I pulled the truck to a halt, preparing to administer artificial
respiration, the Heimlich maneuver, or whatever seemed appropriate.
By that time, she
was sobbing uncontrollably.
After several
moments, I managed to calm her down enough that she could, sort of,
talk.
As it turns out, she
thought the collie was going to run head-first into our vehicle and end
it all.
I explained to her
that rural dogs just aren’t under that much stress, and that they were
probably far less prone to fits of depression, performance anxiety, that
sort of thing than their urban counterparts.
Apparently, dogs do
not chase cars in Los Angeles. Maybe it’s a city ordinance or something.
I always remember
that dear woman because she so clearly demonstrated that our perceptions
are entirely dependant on our experiences.
