I'm going to H E double toothpicks

Most of my friends know that I'm just not a dog person. I like some dogs, but I would never get one. I love watching dogs play, I love the relationship between dog and owner. I honestly believe that a dog is like a child. They are really quite human in the love that they feel for their owners. I hate seeing dogs that are abused, or seeing news reports of animal cruelty where someone is a dog, or cat horder, and these poor animals are living in absolute filth. It is such a tradgety for these animals to be treated that way. I have such admiration for people who work with or support animal rescue. Like our own Dreama who stops by the blog. I also admire people who are breeders who respect the animals they breed by being careful with who they sell their puppies to and how they breed them, like my other blog friend Adri.
Unfortunately I am afraid of strange dogs. This is due to a surprise attack by one when I was walking home one day from school. I was bitten on the back of my leg pretty good. The bite did not break the skin, but my entire calf was bruised and you could see the teeth marks. My mom went to the house and talked to the owner who explained that the dog was a new mother and most likely thought that I was a threat to her puppies, even though I was just walking past the house and had not even see the dog. We let it go since the bite did not break the skin. Then there was the time that my little brother was bitten in the face. This dog was so big that the bite went from one side of his face to the other. Just missed his eye too. My poor brother's face was all black and blue. So I have some reasons why I am a little afraid. You can tell when a dog is going to be friendly, and when one is not going to want to have a thing to do with you. So I'm usually pretty brave around the dogs I can tell are friendly. But I still don't want one.
So here is why I'm going to "H E double toothpicks".
I'm here at work and an agent had a client come in. A little while later the clients husband came in. He is blind and brought along his seeing eye dog. This was a sweet old big dog. I think a golden retriever. But it smelled. Stunk to high heaven. I was starting to get sick to my stomach from the smell. It was that bad. I tried to ignore the smell and have a little conversation with the man while he waited for his wife to come downstairs. Turns out that the man knew my grandfather who worked at the School for the Blind. This man was elderly so I thought he might know him. He did. And then he mentioned some of my grandparents friends. I was trying so hard to be nice with him, but the dog smell was making me queasy. I actually had to put my hand over my nose. Which I was able to do because, you know, he was blind and could not see me do it. I can say things like this because my grandparents were blind. So there. I said it. I did something in front of a blind person because I knew they could not see me do it. And I feel like shit for doing it. But I was about to gag. Good lord that dog stunk.
I'm seriously going to hell.