The clocks went back here at the weekend so it is now pitch dark by about 5pm. I like my daylight, it keeps the black dog away. Black dogs are lovely, but there is a metaphorical black dog that has been chasing me most of my life that I try and stay a few steps ahead of. It gets particularly difficult when it is dark longer than it is daylight.
One of my first memories is being in our back garden with my older brother when I was about three years old. I was lying on my back in the grass. Out of nowhere a black dog appeared. It must have wriggled under the gate or a gap in the fence or something. It came straight for me. I was only a toddler so any dog was big as far as I was concerned. I don't remember what breed it was, it might have only been a puppy, I simply can't recall. The dog just pounced on me and started chewing on my wrists and ankles. I was terrified and helpless. My brother ran in the house crying, 'Mum, mum, a dog is attacking Alice!' My mum said, 'It's only playing.' This utter disregard for our wellbeing was typical of her. It was then that she heard me screaming and ran outside and saw my being used as a chewtoy.
She must have yanked the dog off of me and booted it out of our garden because next thing I remember is being in the living room and her fussing and looking and my red, welted wrists and ankles asking, 'Are you sure, are you sure the dog didn't bite you anyplace else?' over and over again which just annoyed the hell out of me.
I was ok but very shaken up. I love dogs enormously but black dogs are my least favourite. I get a little twist of discomfort when I see one, there's a hint of menace there that isn't present with brown or spotty dogs.
I am very aware of the irony. I don't know if irony is the right word. It has been my bitter fate to be chased by a black dog my whole life and it started when I was a toddler innocently lying in the grass gazing at the sky. A black dog managed to get in even though the gate was closed. My mum didn't take it seriously at first and only helped when I was screaming outside. It's a convenient metaphor for my life up until I left home.
Now the black dog chases me and I fend it off by myself. I use pills and coping mechanisms to deal with it and I try not to fear him so much. We live alongside each other but I keep my gate closed.
And I have a black cat.