I’ve never killed a dog before, but I don’t believe there’s ever been a creature I’ve wanted to kill more than I want to kill this dog. I wanted to take him for a walk this evening, despite what a fiend he’s been, because I’m just that kind of gal, but he growled and bit at me again. And my eyes welled up with ridiculous tears because — aside from being a touch skittish about being mauled — it really hurts my feelings when he does that. Outlandish, I know. He’s a dog, and dogs don’t generalize, but I can’t stop thinking about all the early morning walks we’ve been on and all the delicious treats I’ve hand-fed him, and the obscene vet bill we paid for him. And then he sinks his teeth into Chris’ forearm and snaps at me every other turn. I’m no Cesar Millan, let’s be honest. I’m just a little girl who wants everyone, including a dominant aggressive dog, to like her. Clearly, the only way to solve this equitably is a cage fight. Let’s dance, dog.