Dogs

When I was younger, I used to beg my mom for a dog. I wanted one so badly, yet she always refused. I knew that when I was an adult I would get a dog. My first dog would be a Dachshund, then I'd get a Chihuahua, then I'd get a Golden Retriever. When I was in seventh grade, one day a week or two before Thanksgiving, my mom told me she needed help getting something big out of the car. I grudgingly went out to help her. To my shock, there was a huge black and tan Coon Hound in her car! It was ours to keep. She got him from the pound. He was three years old and didn't like strangers too much because his last owner would feed him then go to work without taking him outside to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately we only had Max for three months. He bit my brothers friend and that was that. Exactly a week later, we picked up a Beagle from a breeder. We had her for a year and a half. She shredded everything and would bite people. We got rid of her. We had no luck with dogs. Now I have OCD around dogs. Whenever I pet one, I have to wash my hands. I now have no plans on getting a dog when I move out. In a few weeks, my younger and older brother, who live in an apartment together, are getting a puppy. I think it's a horrible thing to do because they are never home. They won't be able to take care of her for over 8 hours a day everyday. That's a problem. Unfortunately it's not my decision to make. They are big boys who can make their own decisions. We will see how it goes.