Who's (Not) a Brave Dog?

I always hope that if I ever need help or am in trouble that my dogs will protect me.  Not that I ever worry too much - if someone has the guts to come into our yard with our two extra large dogs, they are welcome to take their chances.

I'm reasonably confident that Chamois will protect me.  She may come across as aloof, but I've seen her protective side with our property or with the cats, so I can see that she has the potential to protect me.  Manu?  Well, Manu is another story.

Even if I'm not brave, I'm still cute.

He's been a scaredy-cat since we got him, although with much patience and understanding, he is much, much better than he used to be.  But he still can't tolerate yelling or aggressive voices.  It sends the poor boy into a spin and he usually leaves the room to hide.  We then spend the next half hour coaxing him out and reassuring him that we were actually yelling at the cat AGAIN and that he is indeed a very good boy, and we love him very much.

Still, in the back of my mind, I have held out hope that if someone was threatening or attacking me, he would step up and use his intimidating size to protect me.  But alas, an incident this weekend leads me to believe that he will leave me to look after myself.

Shawn was walking out the back through the laundry when he yelled out for me to get him the insect spray.  He couldn't get it himself as he had to keep his eye on a massive huntsman spider.  We all know what happens if you turn your back on them - they skittle away and you have no idea where they have gone.  If you continue to watch them, they stay where they are.

How I deal with spiders.

I quickly got the spray and was taking it to him when I heard his raised voice and see a mop dancing in the air.  He had pre-empted my arrival and tried to squash it with a mop.  The spider - rightly so - was having none of that and made its escape.

Unfortunately its escape was to run down the wall with its many hairy legs and make a break for it down the hall.  Down the hall towards me.  I screamed (okay, I squealed like a 5 year old girl if I'm honest).  And not once, possibly several times. Well, not possibly.  Several times okay, I screamed in a high pitched voice several times.  It was running AT me. Probably with intent.

Then it zigged and zagged and went under a shelving unit.  I directed a spray in its general direction, threw the spray at Shawn and promptly jumped up onto the nearest piece of soft furnishing.  If I look at it logically, the spider could have climbed up the couch, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.  After more thumping about, swearing and spraying, the spider was dealt with.  And I'm sorry, I know we shouldn't kill them, but the thought of a spider drinking out of my mouth while I'm sleeping or running across my body is too much to bear.  So was my screaming, as it turns out.

I thought my squeals had a definite distress factor to them, not the silly screams you make when you muck around.  I thought maybe, just maybe, my distress would prompt my dog to at least come and check on me and make sure I was okay.  But no, it was not so.

It was huge!

Manu made a dash to hide between the dining table and the wall, trying to make himself small and safe.  Poor guy, he just can't deal with the stress of it all.

Chamois, on the other hand, didn't move off her bed and barely opened an eye.  I can always count on her to not care.
After my heart rate returned to normal and the smell of insect spray dissipated from the air, I spent some time telling Manu that he was safe, and that I would always look after him.  I'm not sure he believed me.

Deep down, I still think he'd have my back when it really counts.  If not, I'll know where to find him.

Manu - what he lacks in braveness, he makes up for with love.