When I was younger living in St. Paul, I would always go to my neighbors house to play with her. The only glitch was when I finally arrived at her drive way I would have to descend a flight of stairs and walk past her dog, Daisy. Daisy, and don't be fooled by the sweet name, was an irish setter and always in some sort of rage. I would try to calm the terror that I experienced everytime I saw the harsh yellow Beware of Dog sign on the hand rail leading to the cement stairs but failed miserably when I reached the first step. In fact, sometimes I would have to skip all the steps together and go around to the back of the house to go inside. I never was afraid of anyother dogs except that one. Looking back on it now I'm ashamed that I was such a prima donna about passing an old mutt. With the recent passing of Daisy I more than anything feel bad for the dog that seemed to be in it's cage all day. Maybe Daisy 2 will have it a little bit easier, not having to deal with skittish little girls.