The common story I hear among animal lovers is something along the lines of, ” Yeah, I grew up with eight Huskies, two chickens, five goats and fifteen cats.” *blinks my eyes a few times* Okay, well, perhaps that’s an exaggeration. But my point is, I feel so different because my past is not one filled with animals. Imaginary dogs and Beanie Babies were the only canines I grew up with. Yet here I am, making a living by writing about dogs.
I grew up with a cat. That’s right – ONE cat. I spent my childhood in the suburbs of Indianapolis, where pretty much no one in my tight knit neighborhood had dogs…at least not that I can remember. I had been chased by dogs a few times and I remember my cousin getting bitten by the neighbor dog, and it was because of this that I grew up terrified of dogs. By the time I was a teenager, however, I realized I was missing out because I didn’t have a canine companion. Now as I approach 30 years old, I’m a pet blogger and I write about dogs a majority of the time. But I have a confession: I’m not a dog person.
