Doggie day dreams...

I try not to dwell on the past. What's done is done, after all. But sometimes, remembering past experiences can be beneficial. Or so I'm told.

My past and my present have been colliding a lot lately... in the form of a dog; a shepherd, to be exact.

When I was nine years old, I was attacked by my neighbor's German shepherd. I remember the incident vividly in my head, despite its having happened nearly 20 years ago, and yet I still try not to think of it in too much detail. He was large and imposing (his name was Bear, and if I remember correctly, he may have been in law enforcement at one point in his life), and he had a bit of a bad temper. At nine years old, I was considerably smaller than his 100-plus pound frame and when he grabbed my leg in his jaws, he pulled me down instantly. He probably could have killed me if he wanted to. Luckily, I managed to escape.

After that, I was terrified of dogs. All dogs. My nine-year-old mind didn't discriminate breeds. If it had four legs, large incisors and barked/growled, I viewed it as my mortal enemy. Even my neighbors' teeny toy dogs terrified me. I could distinguish a shepherd from any other breed of dog based solely on its bark, and if I heard one, my heart would race and my left leg would go numb.

They say dogs can smell fear and I have no doubt I exuded fear in excess.

Fast forward 20 years and I want nothing more than a shepherd puppy, so much so that I've been dreaming of it...literally.

Last week, I called my boyfriend to tell him I dreamed we got a shepherd and that it tried to eat my hand. The dog -- who was either part wolf or named "Wolf" in my dream -- latched on to my wrist and proceeded to chomp until I awoke.

"I don't think our dog is going to eat you," Doc said simply by way of response when I told him.

Given it wouldn't be the first time a dog saw me as its dinner, I thought maybe that was God's way of telling me I shouldn't get a shepherd. The universe was telling me to stay away. Maybe that's one breed of dog that's just not for me; bad things happen in their presence, after all.

But last night, while visiting with some friends I met a shepherd who made me reconsider that cosmic ban. This dog -- all white with the largest paws I've ever seen on a domesticated animal -- was so beautiful and so well-behaved that I wished I could take him home with me.

For as much as I've conquered my fear of dogs (and to be fair, there are still some lingering effects: the first time my Labrador started barking at some threat or other he sensed outside the house when we were home alone, I remember my heart rate spiked and I was afraid to go near him, lest he turn his anger on me), I wonder if I'll ever be able to quell my fear completely?

Only time will tell, I suppose. Until then, I'll continue dreaming of the perfect shepherd (a companion for the Bernese Mountain Dog puppy Doc already agreed to). Preferably one not named after a carnivore.