A sunny, hot, summer day. I was four years old when I was playing outside in my backyard. My dad was weed-eating and mowing the grass and I was out there with him. There were three dogs we had when I was 4, Barney, Dewey, and Emma. My dogs were were genuinely peaceful, they were labrador retrievers, renown for their companionship, however, my blonde lab, Dewey, was an explosive dog. I would soon learn this later on. Dewey was tied to a chain to the shed, because I was so young at the time and since I was outside my dad did not want him knocking me around or maybe possibly attacking me. But, as my dad was busy around the shed, I went up to Dewey and commanded him, “SIT!”, and continued to tease him. I repeated this a few more times. The Next thing I knew I heard a growl, until finally he snapped the chain off the shed and bit me on the head. I was bleeding profusely, but as my dad heard my cries he came around the corner and smacked Dewey, getting him away from me. I don’t remember much, just laying on the ground, seeing and smelling the freshly mowed grass. I can recall hearing my mom shouting and putting paper towels on my head. I remember, later, being in the hospital, which one I do not recall. I barely even remember getting fourteen stitches on my head, leaving a scar there forever.

Afterwards, I later became enthralled with Dewey. I wanted to become his friend as I always once wanted to be. So one day, possibly a few weeks or even a year after he bit me, my dad brought me up to Dewey in my first confrontation with him since that day I remember since he skirmish with me. Dewey was fearful of my dad and knew he was the boss, so he would never think about biting me near him. So for the first time I remember in a long while, I caressed Deweys fur, patting him on the head, hugging him. It all felt nice. The other two dog’s I had were the friendliest dogs known to man, but Dewey, although capable of being friendly, was a naturally aggressive dog.

Although he was mean, I still loved him, and when I grew older he no longer growled at me, and we later spent much of our time together. Dewey passed away around late August in 2014. And later, we got a new blonde lab, Dino (like from the “Flintstones”), that same year. He is much more affable, but still more mischievous and nosy than Dewey. However, Dewey will always remain in me and my family’s heart.

In the end, I learned to love the thing that had done me wrong. I conquered my fear of him and I came to love him like I did the rest of my dogs. I came to realize I am the one to blame. I pushed my dogs buttons and received the consequences; one that will stick with me forever.