One of the realities of living outside of a town with a population of 100 (?) people, though, was that the roads were not paved. They were all gravel, which was quite frustrating to those of us who enjoyed rollerskating and bike riding. It be bumpy on gravel. Just sayin'.
So one day when I was in first grade, my sister and I are across the road at an honest -to -goodness farm and their dog, who we are already afraid of, comes charging out of the barn. So we take off on our bikes, which makes the dog run faster. My heart is pounding as I pedal as furiously as possible down the gravel road back to our house as the black and white mutt chases us, barking and baring his teeth, and BAM I hit a rock. I fly. I am the space shuttle being thrown from my boosters. I'm over the handlebars. I am hitting the gravel. Forehead. Chin. Palms. Elbows. Chest. Knees. Ankles. There was crying.
This event did not help me like dogs. So I get it. Dogs can be scary. It's only been recently that I could say, "Yes, I like dogs, " rather than just appreciating how they make other people really happy. I even think I might be able to live with one someday. Maybe. I like visiting them for sure.
Punkin is petrified of animals, and he hasn't even been thrown from an aqua 10-speed, but he simultaneously adores them. He is currently obsessed with two dogs, one of whom lives next door to my parents. He's learned to play fetch with her and just two days ago petted her all by himself for the first time. She's lived there his entire life. Anyway, I too may be falling for her -- and not just because she brings her frisbee to me over everyone else in my family. On Sunday I stayed with Punkin's Sunday School class. His teacher asked the kids to draw a picture of something they celebrate.
|"Four legs, Mom. Is Annabelle. Go see Annabelle? I pet her?"|