Yes, I really am terrified of *all* dogs...

Hello again! This is a very long-awaited (like two or three days, I think?) and highly anticipated post for some of you. And I'm not going to lie to you, I am really looking forward to expressing myself on this issue. Once again I'm just going to tell you that you might be offended by some of the things I say, and that once again I don't care. It's my blog. Booyah. Anyway. Here goes.
I really, really, really hate dogs. It's not just a passing thing. I've hated dogs forever, just ask my parents. And it's not just like every once in a while I come across a dog that I really just don't enjoy being around. No, no. I hate every dog that has ever existed. For most of my life, this has been a fact that most people have either 1) not believed or 2) ignored. I can assure you that you have no idea how frustrating, irritating, nerve-wracking, and even horrifying this has been for me. Everything about them disgusts me.
Many people, probably even many of you who are reading this, have tried to convince me that YOUR dog(s) HAVE to be exceptions because they're SO NICE and LOVING. "Ohh Rebekah come pet MY dog *insert lame name here*, you'll like her soooo much, she's soooo cute and she won't bite!" I'm not going to do that. You see, embedded deep within my very being is a fear that if you don't have, you will not understand. My husband has a fear of heights. I didn't realize until after we went on the SkyWheel in Niagara Falls that he was pretty terrified the entire time. That is a fear that I do not have, therefore do not understand. And I can promise you that no one can tell him, "go on the Ferris Wheel at *insert amusement park name here* because it's DIFFERENT from the rest" and actually make him believe it. It does not matter how big or small or "nice" the dog is, or how it won't bite. I'm not afraid of a dog biting me. I'm afraid of the dog itself. All of them.
"Hey Rebekah, I LOVE taking my dog with me to public sporting events and to the park with large gatherings of people!" I'm sure you do. And I'm sure there are people at any given place who would welcome your disgusting creature with open arms. But if you don't keep it on a leash away from me (or even away from me if it IS on a leash), I will kick it, hard, no questions asked. I am COMPLETELY compassionless when it comes to dogs. I know, I'm a Christian and I'm not supposed to say things like that. I look at it as self defense, and if it is wrong to do, God will deal with me.
I've tried numerous times throughout my life to convince myself that I can get rid of my fear and hatred, and have tried to like a few dogs. The first dog I tried to not be afraid of was my Grandma's neighbor's little Pomeranian. Little bitty thing, a little yappy, but I thought I could handle it. So, with great courage, I finally stepped inside the fenced backyard with my older brother and my Grandma's neighbor. I laughed nervously as it came towards me, bent down with Tyler to pet it, touched it for a moment, got scared, stood back up, wished I had long pants on instead of shorts, tried to get over it, bent back down, touched it again... and then it looked at me and barked. I couldn't handle it any longer. Instead of going back to the gate, I just tried to hop the fence. I ended up in tears with my shorts ripped. I got yelled at for "scaring the dog" because it was shaking after the incident. As if I wasn't.
There were several other dogs over the years that I tried to like. It never worked. My friends and acquaintances who had dogs, as I said before, either didn't believe my fear was real or just ignored it, and quite frankly, when I had/have a dog around me, I do not have a good time. I can be surrounded by friends who are hilarious and having a great time, and I might even be able to put on a happy face, but there is a constant fear in the forefront of my mind that ends up making me unbelievably uncomfortable.
Once a while back someone mentioned, "I don't have a problem with people bringing their dogs to [wherever we were at the time...?]." My dad got this look on his face, and I couldn't quite tell what he was thinking, until he looked at that person and said, "You would, if you had a daughter who's traumatized by them." Even as recently as a couple weeks ago I had a run in with a dog. Me, Tom, Dad, Mom, and Erik were in our lawn chairs on the West End Overlook in Pittsburgh waiting for fireworks to start, and we were having a great time. All of a sudden something touched my arm and when I looked down and saw a dog sniffing at me I freaked out. The four people I was with looked at me because they knew what I was thinking. I couldn't do anything because it wasn't in position for me to kick it and I won't punch dogs because I won't touch them with my hands or bare skin because that nauseates me. So it's stupid owner laughed a little and tugged on its leash and they went on their merry way while I sat there shaking and miserable for the next few minutes until something finally got my mind off it.
Ya know, if my best friend were a tarantula I wouldn't bring it out in public with me and stick it in your faces and say mine was different than all the rest and not scary. And I can't be the only person in the world with this fear (though I'm certain it's less common than the fear of heights or spiders). Just know that when you don't control your dogs, you're going to ruin my experience, and your dog's too if it gets anywhere near my foot.