Letter 45 - Did My DOG actually teach me this lesson?

Hello Bregdan Woman,

You have Ginny today…

Here’s the thing I know about Bregdan Women. You want NEW things for your life. You want to do things in a different way. You want to do things better. You want to live a better life than the one you’re living. You have dreams… you have goals… you might even have a plan.

If you’re squirming uncomfortably because this is true – BUT you’re struggling and can’t figure out what is keeping you from doing these wonderful things, I believe I know the answer.

FEAR.

If you’re a living, breathing human being), then you battle with fear. There have been times in your life, maybe many times, maybe even right now, when your fear has kept you from doing something you wanted to do. I know I certainly fit in that category, but I can also tell you that it happens far less often now.

Why?

Well, that’s what I want to tell you about. I’m here today to tell you about an extraordinary animal who taught me more about conquering fear than any human ever has.

I’m going to divert for today from talking about women.

Why?

I learned my biggest lessons about fear from a scrawny, terrified, filled-with-buckshot dog named Caspian. And now I share them with you…

Caspian was a new addition to my household… I was already calling him my miracle dog.

Caspian edged his way into my world one day when I was driving home from work, cruising along the wooded roads leading to the small farm I lived on. He appeared out of nowhere, easing out from behind a tree and moving closer to the road, watching me approach. My heart sank as soon as I saw the emaciated, pitiful excuse for a dog. You could see the fear and pain in his eyes. I’m a sucker for any animal, but every animal I’ve ever owned has been a stray or rescue.

I pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out, but he had already disappeared. I searched and called for about 20 minutes before I gave up. I thought about that poor dog all night. The next day I saw him again – in the same curve of the road. I stopped again. He ran away again. We repeated this scenario every day for a week. I had already named him. Caspian. I longed to take him home, fix him up, and make the fear disappear from his eyes. Instead, I could only watch him become more pathetic looking.

Finally, one week into this little game, after I had pulled over and he had run away, I yelled into the woods. “I give up! I’m not going to work tomorrow. If you need my help, you’re going to have to come to me.” What a stupid thing to say! I lived 3 more miles up the road. How in the world was he supposed to know where to come, and what made me think he was listening? The silent woods mocked me as I got in my car and drove home.

I thought about Caspian all night, especially when I was feeding my two fit, glossy, and happy black Labrador retrievers. I imagined him starving and afraid in the dark woods. I walked out onto my porch that night and stared in the direction of the woods,

“Come on buddy,” I whispered. “You’ve got a home here if you’ll just let me help you.” I’d already decided to go look for him on my day off.

The next morning, I had breakfast, threw on a light jacket, and headed out to look for him. I walked down the steps and stopped dead in my tracks.

Caspian was huddled up against a large oak tree, his eyes glued on my face. I could tell he was terrified. I could also tell he had reached the end of his rope. He was skin and bones, covered with ticks, fleas, and sores, and had been shot – his scraggly body riddled with buckshot.

Tears filled my eyes as I dropped down to my knees and started talking to him. “Hello, Caspian. I don’t know how you found me, but you’re safe now. You’re home. We’re going to get you fixed up, buddy. You’re home.” I don’t know how long I knelt there talking to him before he finally crept over and laid down at my feet. I stroked him until he began to relax and then picked him up and put him in the front seat of my truck. He needed help immediately if he was going to make it.

It took weeks of vet treatments, baths, and many bowls of food, but he finally began to look like a survivor. His bones disappeared, his coat took on a shine, and he became my constant shadow to show his appreciation for me saving his life.

He was always with me – except when I went upstairs to my office.

My home had a wide expanse of wooden stairs that led to the 2^nd floor. Caspian was terrified of the stairs. It didn’t matter what I did to build his confidence, or what wonderful tidbit of food I tempted him with, he refused to climb those stairs. He would cower at the bottom step and shake uncontrollably whenever he got near them.

When my other two dogs and I went upstairs to my office, he was overcome with despair at being separated from me and lay at the bottom whimpering and whining.

I had no idea what had created this fear. I had even less of an idea of how to conquer it. After two weeks of daily attempts, I finally gave up. If he didn’t want to climb the stairs – so be it. My only defense from his pitiful whining was to turn the music up any time I needed to be in my office. It broke my heart to hear him so sad. When I would leave my office and come downstairs, Caspian would erupt with frantic joy to be reunited once again.

But he steadfastly refused to climb those stairs.

He was locked in his fear.

About a month into this pattern, I was awakened one morning by a noise. I lay in bed trying to identify what it was.

Click, click, click… Silence. Click, click, click… Silence.

It continued for close to fifteen minutes before my curiosity finally overwhelmed my desire to stay under the warm covers. I threw aside my quilt, grabbed a robe and went to investigate. When I identified the source of the noise, I stood there with my mouth wide open.

I watched as Caspian carefully climbed the stairs. Click, click, click… He got to the top, turned around, and then started back down. Click, click, click…

When he got to the bottom, he turned and gazed at me as if to say, It’s really no big deal. I can do this!

He did it again, and again, and again… at least 25 more times – after having done it for 15 minutes before I finally came to investigate.

I watched his confidence grow every time he went up, and then down, the “dreaded stairs.” His tongue hung out in joy. His tail wagged his triumph over his fears. He knew he would never again have to be separated from me because of the stairs.

When I went up to my office that day, he bounded up the stairs with my other 2 dogs. I laughed joyfully the whole way and gave him an extra treat at the top.

I already loved him, but that day I gained an incredible respect for his courage and resilience. I was also challenged about what I was willing to do to overcome my fears.

Was I willing to stare my fears in the face and then take the steps to overcome that fear?

Was I willing to feel the fear, and then do what I feared anyway?

Was I willing to attack my fears, for as long as it took to overcome them?

I was facing a lot of my own fears right then. I had written my first book 2 years earlier, but I had merely shoved it in an envelope and stuck it in a desk drawer. I had zero intention of doing anything with it. I had written it while I was sick in bed.

As soon as I was better, I hid it away and went about my life. A friend of mine accidentally found it and had been badgering me to submit it for publication. Not a chance! I wasn’t going to risk being rejected. I had no interest in discovering I wasn’t any good. My fear was 1000 times stronger than my dream of someday being a published author.

That day, when I went up to the office with Caspian by my side, I made a lot of decisions that have given me a much richer life. I have Caspian to thank for it!

I pulled out that manuscript, learned how to do a book proposal, researched Publishers, and went for it. And, yes, that was my very first book published. Dozens more have followed.

I have Caspian to thank for helping me overcome my fears.

I thought I saved him. Now I know he saved me from a life of fear and mediocrity.

So now I pose the same questions to you: Are you willing to stare your fears in the face and then take the steps to overcome them?

Are you willing to feel the fear, and then do it anyway?

Are you willing to attack your fears for as long as it takes to overcome them?

Every time you are faced with fear, try to remember a courageous dog that was able to conquer his fears with love and determination – and then follow his lead.

Each of us is afraid of something in our life. There is no shame in being afraid. The key to victory, however, is to face your fear head on and do whatever it takes to overcome it.

You can let your fears stop you from achieving what you want in life, or…

You can follow Caspian’s lead and conquer the stairs!

Bregdan Women choose courage over fear.

I happen to believe you have what it takes to conquer your fears.

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What will you do to be a Bregdan Woman?

What will you do today to impact history??

We’re on this journey with you… (and have 2 FREE Gifts for you below…)

Ginny & Suess

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