3

My third confession is somewhat prompted; I’m afraid of dogs.

When I was younger, a dog chased me up a tree. That memory really stuck

with me, the smell of the pine, and my sweat, and the stench of wet fur...I’d

wrapped my arms around the trunk, clinging for dear life in the rain. My

brother came and chased the dog away about an hour later.

I get nervous around dogs to this day, even when they’re leashed. I absolutely

loathe having to sit in the same subway car with a dog. I feel like there’s less

room for me to escape.

So, you can imagine that I wasn’t very pleased to notice a black dog roaming

my street a few hours after getting home from work. It’s a beast of a thing too;

ragged black fur, practically a wolf, these starved leering eyes...

Why nobody walking by has already chased it away is anyone’s guess. Maybe

they think that it’s normal for a massive dog to stalk suburbs (spoiler alert; it

isn’t)? Maybe they just don’t want to get involved.

It’s going around the neighborhood sniffing at doors, pawing at them.

Hopefully, it’ll soon realize that nobody’s interested in feeding it and wander

off.