When we lived in a quiet “In town” neighborhood in Atlanta, I used to walk quite a bit. I walked to the grocery store, which we called the Korean Market. How racist. And I walked just to walk.

A few years prior, after my job at the Ad Agency ended, I became a pet sitter, going from house to house, looking after peoples’ dogs and cats. I was attacked by a dog during one of these visits, and needless-to-say, I halted my job as a pet sitter. Why should I do this for money?

Therefore, my leisurely neighborhood walking excursions were filled with the fear of being attacked again. Around every bush, there could be a dog just waiting to attack me. And that fear bred more fear, because after all, don’t dogs sense fear?

I was leafing through a magazine one day and found an ad for a device a person could carry. It would emit sounds undetectable to humans (of course) and dogs would be repelled. It was perfect for mailmen, the ad said. And those on business having to come to unfamiliar houses.

Perfect! I would order this gray pancake-like item with little sound wave grooves on the end of it. And a button to push when a dog was near.

I carried it around on my walks. Still a little fearful. And also aware I was probably being duped. But hey, I had my gray dog repellent device and, if a boxer came near me, I would aim.

Whether it worked or not did not matter. Because I never had to use that thing. The other day, years after I had purchased this mysterious gray piece of plastic, I was cleaning out a drawer. I looked at it and with a little embarrassment, put it back in the drawer.

Belief in a dog repellent? Just like those round green termite traps that lie in our yards. Or the one inch square cut piece of sheet I own that Paul McCartney supposedly slept on at the Plaza Hotel. Or how do you know there is really a star out there with your name on it? Belief. Praying on love, fear or desire. It’s part of our psyche to want magic.