FEELING FRISKY

When you come from a big Catholic family of 5, 6, 7 or 8+ kids it’s rare for any one kid to have their very own pet – just not practical. My brother did. He had Frisky. A medium small, reddish scrappy looking dog. His very own.

Our neighborhood was put together in the mid 50’s. As a matter of fact, there was only one other house on our side of the block when my folks ‘custom’ built all 1,500 sq ft to house our family of 6 (and still growing….). So there was a lot of wooded area around us. And a lot of mesquite. AND these were the days when dogs ran free. It turns out those woods were full of ticks. Once attached to roaming canines those ticks got big and fat! You could spot them here there and everywhere on poor ole Frisky. Every so often my mom would haul him to be ‘dipped’ at the vet to remedy his sorry situation.  (Flea collars? Guess they weren’t strong enough or hadn’t been invented yet?).

I didn’t have anything against the pooch. I didn’t have much feeling about him one way or the other. He was just Frisky, chasing cars up and down our street and being my brother John’s dog.

But this one day, and I don’t know how it happened, Frisky showed up at my grade school, St Paul. He’d never done that before. It was very far from our house. Maybe he followed my brother? Anyway, my third grade classroom door was just a few feet away from the outside door. It was wide open (the good old days). You get where this is going… Didn’t Frisky toddle on into my classroom – ticks and all!

I guess I embarrass easily – but I really thought I was going to DIE.

Paralysis, instant headache, sick, sick, stomach. That can’t really be Frisky up at the teacher’s desk fuller than usual with the gorging blood suckers?!! Gross. If I admit he’s my brother’s dog the kids will think I have cooties too. And if I don’t speak up: 1) Frisky stays right there repulsing the kids in the front row. AND 2) I’m going to get CAUGHT! They’ll get me for not fessing up and telling the truth. BEYOND EMBARRASSMENT.

Somehow that second possibility jolted my tender little conscience (gracias first grade teacher, Mother Bernard for placing that angel on one shoulder and super gluing the devil on the other)  I did the right thing… And so I don’t remember exactly how it all went down but I figure my brother was called from his 7th grade classroom and he escorted his dear precious Frisky back home – ticks and all. Yuk

Embarrassment is right up there with my least favorite emotions. Jealousy could easily take first place in that category but you can see how they are related. I get embarrassed when I realize I’ve revealed my jealousy!!!

Embarrassment is the nightmare where I find myself on stage – FINALLY!  except that I’m naked..  Everybody sees what I don’t want them to see. It slipped out. It’s too late to cover it up. They SAW.

What’s the worst thing that can happen to me if anyone or EVERYONE discovers what I am hiding – the stuff  I sometimes don’t even know I’m stuffing until it is out there for God and all the rest to gawk at? It’s just an emotion. Just sensations in my body. Can embarrassment kill? Can I die from it? Why the expression DYING OF EMBARRASSMENT?  I don’t know. I just know it burns like fire

I’m pretty old now. Not in 3rd grade anymore. I wonder if I can still feel the Frisky kind of embarrassment? Or do I fight back? Do I quickly rationalize the situation?  Do I make myself RIGHT… Do I say, ‘ that audience is seeing things or they’re overreacting’? I like to believe that maybe, just MAYBE my embarrassing moments are on the wane. They are slowly being replaced with just a smidgen of more self confidence.  A modicum of self esteem.  And on my best days that old embarrassment is no match for my real true self love. Sometimes??