I was visiting my friend Paul Berry for the first time in a few months yesterday. I opened the door to see him and his dog yapping at me from a leash that his mom is holding. “Don’t worry, he’s not as dangerous as he looks,” says Paul. The dog is acting a little aggressive, but he is a pet, so I reach out to pet him thinking I’m not afraid of dogs. Next moment, the dog bites the shit out of my palm leaving a swollen white mark that faded into a dark purple bruise. Naturally, I yelled.
“Why did you try to pet my dog?” Paul asked.
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