I'm not a dog person, though I'm not sure what that means, really, because I'm not a cat person either. I would say I'm anti-animal, but that sounds way more harsh than what is intended and truthful. I guess what I'm saying is I'm not really an animal lover as it pertains to my life. Well...or anyone else's life, really. Which also sounds more harsh.
Isaac and I made a pact when we were first married. No other living things (plants, animals) in the house. Period. Neither of us want the responsibility for their care. Honestly, other than my sister's cat, I'm not even sure Sammy understands that some people have animals live with them. They are a pretty foreign concept to him. Especially because our neighborhood isn't rife with pets. So, the other day, when we were on a walk, it was surprising to us to find two little yippy dogs running toward us. We never encounter that. I HATE yippy dogs. More than anything. Well, not frogs.
When I was younger, there was a yippy dog that lived at the end of our street. And hated me. And would chase me while on my bike. Hate, hate, hate. Brought me to tears more times than not. And clearly, I never got past that. During our walk, I froze. I seized up and could not move. Isaac had to get in between us, while I grabbed Sammy's hand, to walk past. I shuddered and half pulled Sammy to the end of the block; memory pictures of that dog of my youth haunting me.
I hate yippy dogs.
(animal, neon trees)