This is my dog. His name is Malcolm.
This is what Malcolm looks like when he’s slightly scared.
We went a long time thinking he was fearless. He sometimes dodges through traffic gleefully when chasing imaginary squirrels. Occasionally he’ll go swimming until he’s so tired he almost drowns. That’s pretty fun to watch.
So that’s why we thought maybe he was fearless. A fearless dog! Well, a fearless, dumb dog.
But no. That’s not it at all.
Malcolm is scared of things, but only things that couldn’t possibly ever hurt him. Not big, rabid dogs. Not bears. Not vampires. Not getting stomped to death by a horse. (He likes to try and bite horse ankles. They make him angry.)
He’s only scared of the exactly wrong things.
Like chickens. All chickens. He outweighs them by about 55 pounds, but don’t tell him that. Those things are scary.
And sitting in a car, especially when it turns or changes lanes. He whimpers the whole time. This is especially fun when driving for three or more hours. You would think he would stop at some point and fall asleep. You would be wrong.
Also, stethoscopes. Not needles. Not anal gland checks. Not the vet in general. Not surgery without anesthesia. No, no. Just the stethoscopes.
OK, so he’s scared of mostly the wrong things.