I don't like dogs.

The feeling is mutual.

My neighbor has a dog, about the size of a small cat. I believe that he's a Chihuahua, but I'm not overly sure. It looks like a rat to me. A rabid, mean rat. With sharp, slightly yellowed teeth.

I don't mind my neighbor. She's nice to Mama and me. She sends over pie sometimes. She says that it's because she misses her family back in America. I like her. I just can't get past the fact that she owns that thing.

He's yappy. Constantly making noise at the slightest disturbance. Someone walking down the street, a car, the wind, me.

I think that he hates me. He certainly acts like it, always doing his best to bite a chunk out of me. Growling and yapping as I scramble past the house on my way to school. Bearing his teeth in a parody of a smile.

Sometimes Kurikara-oba-san leaves the gate open.

Then, I run. I run away shaking with fear and screaming at the top of my lungs.

It's probably the worst thing to do, but I just get so scared that I do it automatically. I usually end up with scrapes on my hands and knees alongside the scratches and bites because of how much of a klutz I am. I don't look forward to days like those. I wish they weren't so common.

I don't know when I started disliking dogs, or fearing them. I don't know why either. Mama said that when I started school, a couple days after Papa and Nonno left to go back to work, I just became increasingly terrified of dogs. I started tripping and stumbling. Evading animals of all sorts, but none so much as dogs.

I wish that helped to jog my memory. All I can remember when I try to think back on it is heart stopping fear, warmth, and the color orange. I like orange. It makes me think of safety and acceptance. I'm not entirely sure of why it would though, it just does. Unlike dogs.

I don't remember a time before I disliked dogs. Before I feared dogs and anything else prone to harming me, even things that weren't. Before I couldn't so much as look at the creatures without breaking into a cold sweat.

So, while I may not be the toughest person in the world, at least I have a reason for it. A reason for being a wimp. Maybe, I can get over this fear one day. I hope so.

I still don't like dogs, though.

I don't think that I ever will.