Nophobia by Geoff Reed

We all have our fears and phobias, don’t we? The same goes for our canine friends; well, most of them anyway. I’ve had dogs that were afraid of babies, balloons, the vacuum cleaner, ironing board, scissors, matches and flashlights. That’s in addition to the common dog fears of thunderstorms (Ceraunophobia) or being abandoned and alone (Autophobia). Me, I’m afraid of the open ocean (Thalassophobia), large crowds (Agorophobia), traffic accidents, jail, centipedes, and cantaloupe.

It seems like everyone has an official phobia of some type these days. Common human fears in the U.S. include spiders (Arachnophobia), foreigners (Xenophobia), failure (Atychiphobia), snakes (Ophidiophobia), germs and dirt (Mysophobia), heights (Acrophobia) and yes, even fear of dogs (Cynophobia).

The exception to all this is a twelve- year- old female Australian Shepherd mix I know named Ruby, who isn’t and has never been afraid of anything. There is nothing I know of that has ever even fazed her. It must be nice to go through life confidently fearless in all situations at all times. If you think about it though, it makes perfect sense. What good would a shepherd guarding a flock of sheep Down Under be if she was easily frightened or intimidated? She even enjoys going to the vet for God’s sake.

I looked up Nophobia and Zerophobia to see if there was a word for a completely fearless trait like Ruby’s in the human condition. The only thing I could find was a site on Nomophobia – the fear of being without ones mobile phone. Then there is a popular line of Sportswear called “No Fear,” but that’s about it.

Ruby came out of a dismal county animal shelter in Washington State. We were looking for a friendly, but loyal and always- on- alert type watchdog. She was sitting quietly in a corner, and somehow, I missed her on the first walk-through. Her file said she had been picked up as a stray hanging around a farm field. When we first got her she clearly had never ridden in a vehicle before and at home was reluctant to leave the garage at first. As I write this, eleven years later, she is asleep on her customary spot on the couch with one eye slightly open and one ear perked for the sound of possible trouble or maybe the evening feeding.

Now that Ruby will be moving out, I will no longer be able to ignore the sounds of something going bump in the night. For reasons I won’t get into, she will be leaving my house shortly, but will still be living nearby so I will get to see her. I will cherish that time. Maybe, someday, I will even be able to summon some of her courage to write about why we won’t be living together anymore.