Am I like him? Or is he like me?

Last weekend a relative brought her black, one-pound, two-month-old teacup chihuahua over to my house, and my 14-pound dog was scared out of his mind. And her name was Princess.

Usually, Milo doesn’t like puppies because they are too hyper and annoying for him. He’d most likely lay on his pillow and either watch or ignore the little rascals running around him. However, with Princess, he hid under the kitchen table and ran away from her every time she came near him. It’s strange to see the bigger and older dog be scared of a tiny, harmless puppy.

But Milo is a lot like me. I’m not great with young children, and I’m very cautious of my surroundings. Milo contemplates whether his actions will be safe or not before he does anything, like jumping off the couch that is two feet above the ground or just standing next to an empty box. I actually go speed limit and watch for other cars when I drive, fearing that the police will catch me anytime. I’ve even considered wearing the Asian mom visor to look more like an adult instead of a “reckless” teen driver.

I’ve lived and taken care of Milo for the last four and a half years of my life. I’ve learned that some things in my house that I didn’t consider dangerous can be dangerous, and he’s learned that not all things are plush and still. We’ve seen each other eat, sleep and cry. We’re bound to rub off each other. It’s like the saying, “you are what you eat”, but in this case its “you are who you are around.”

We both get what we want in a sly way, and we’re both lazy. Sometimes, we would sit on the couch together and not care about the world. And we both have keen ears: if someone is opening a bag of chips, or what sounds like good food, we both run to the kitchen to hoping to have some of the goods. But most of all we both worry a lot. He worries that he’ll be hurt, and I worry about, well, everything.

I’ve realized that my dog is like me and I’m like my dog. He’s also like my mom and my sister in many other ways. I’m also like my friends and my family. They’re all different, and I’m a mixture of all their personalities. We’re all made up of those who we care about.

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