Yet again

Just when I think I’m making such solid, mature progress with my back, I do something stupid and pay for it with pain. But this time, it’s more than just physical pain. I’m in tears of disappointment that I still just don’t get it.

I was on an outing today (well, technically, yesterday) with the llovey Rojo. On our way back to the car, we noticed a blind woman and her service dog walking towards us. Rojo is always very aware of dogs, but mostly in a curious way. The dogs who meet Rojo are always much more likely than Rojo to be freaked out because really, how often does a dog encounter a llama?

As the blind woman approached us, Lori wisely called out to her, “We have a llama up here. Your dog might be a little nervous.” Sure enough, Rosie the dog was initially very wary and protective. We call this foreshadowing.

A conversation ensued and Rosie settled down. Then the woman wanted to pet Rojo. She asked, “Could somebody hold on to Rosie while I pet Rojo?” It seemed natural to me to volunteer. Despite my fear of dogs, I figured this one was thoroughly trained, highly professional, and therefore a safe bet. Yet more foreshadowing.

To any observer other than Rosie, it was clear that this blind woman was having a transforming experience. The woman slowly touched Rojo all over. Lori did an amazingly insightful job describing what the woman was touching, putting words to the woman’s fingers to help her see this extraordinary animal. However, what Rosie saw was her owner, out of reach, being attacked by a very large, unfamiliar animal.

Rosie jumped. Rosie pulled on her lead. Rosie was strong. She didn’t bark or growl in a way that scared me, oddly, but she was obviously in distress that she couldn’t protect her owner. I couldn’t blame her. But I can blame myself.

As I lay here with new aches, I’m sure (I hope) I didn’t do any physical damage. But I am so disappointed in myself. So discouraged that my newly found awareness of the importance of taking care of myself and my back might just be a façade. I should have signaled to Lori that I couldn’t handle the dog. But I didn’t want to take the moment, the experience away from the blind woman. I knew as I struggled with Rosie that I was doing something I shouldn’t. And yet I kept doing it. I wasn’t being selfless. I wasn’t being generous. I wasn’t being compassionate. I was being stupid and stubborn. And I’m paying for it. Yet again.