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I have to say right off that I’m not much of a dog person.
It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I just feel uneasy when I’m around them and I’m not sure where this stems from. I was never attacked or chased down by dogs as a child, never had any negative experience at all really. But when I encounter one, particularly a dog whose head is at groin level or a breed with an unfortunate killer reputation, I sense a deeply inbred intelligence, a yearning to dominate and challenge. There’s an overwhelming feeling of being observed with an instinctual malice. Perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe they just want to play, to engage me as if I were a walking plaything. Or chew toy.
My friends, Henry and Frank own a pair of beautiful Border Collies named Mamie and Bess. They are devoted to them and as with most people who own dogs, treat and pamper them like they are their children. These are kind and loving relationships between dog and man but this ‘dog bug’ has never bitten me.
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On a visit to Henry and Frank’s house, my knock on the door is greeted with the double barking and ruckus of Mamie (May-me) and Bess as they barrel down the stairs to engage the intruder. Once they see it’s me, they quiet down and allow me to peaceably enter. I too relax but still entertain a lingering memory of Frank and Henry telling me on first meeting the dogs, specifically not to stare at Mamie.
“Don’t stare at Mamie,” they said in unison. “She’s...
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