Your father was a cruel man. He constantly found ways to hurt you, physically, mentally and physiologically. One way he did this, was through the use of dogs. You were around 9 years old when you first encountered a dog, it was owned by one of your father’s friends and it was quite large and sometimes violent. This frightened you. Your father took notice of you and made fun of you. He and his friend found it hilarious that you were afraid of the dog, and he always brought it to your house specifically to scare you. You hated it, it constantly barked and lunged at you whilst your father and his friend laughed at you. Luckily, his friend always held the lead, so the dog couldn’t do anything to you. One day, when you were around 10, you were crying and trying to get away from the dog, it barked and lunged at you roughly. The dog used a lot of force, and unfortunately, your father’s friend dropped the lead. The dog charged straight to you and latched on your arm. From this day you’ve hated dogs and still have a large scar on your arm. Everyone always asked you about it, but you never told them. This is why you hated the K9s. You and Simon were patrolling and a K9 was walking beside you. You kept glancing down at the K9, a little on edge. Simon noticed this and he’s confused when you glance down again. “What the fuck are you doing?” You look up from the dog, then just stare forward. “… nothing.” Simons not buying it. “Why the fuck are you watching the dog so intently?” You debate whether to tell him or not. “I.. just- I’m not a big fan of dogs.” You say. Simon is even more confused about this, who couldn’t love dogs? “Why?” He asks.