Who let the dogs out?

It is growling and bearing huge cartoon-like fangs. I try to make a run for it but, as is usual in dreams, my legs become frozen to the spot. The dog sinks its teeth into my ankle and refuses to let go, no matter how hard I hit it over the head.

In the end, I accept my predicament and the animal becomes an attached part of me as I go about my business. At this point I wake up.

I've been terrified of dogs since I was bitten by one when I was 13.

Maybe the clinging canine of my nightmare represents the fear I've never shaken off since that painful afternoon when I was helping my friend with his paper round.

The black mongrel came out of nowhere from the back garden of a house I was delivering to. It jumped up and sent me sprawling and then began gnawing and scratching at my chest until its owner came to the rescue.

I can still picture the beast's yellow teeth and matted fur.

The experience was made worse by the fact I was forced to drop my trousers for a tetanus jab in front of my friend's mum who had rushed me to casualty.

The physical scars are still visible today and the mental ones left by that mongrel go deeper. I've spent much of the last 17 years avoiding dogs.

Those of us who are cynophobic - the term for a fear of dogs - are adept at steering clear of the places in which they run loose: fields, parks, dirt tracks, deserted beaches, even certain streets.

Every house I approach is carefully checked for signs of canine activity, like chewed bones or frayed remnants of the postman's trousers.

A bereaved couple I went to see locked their dog in the kitchen at my request before I arrived. To my horror the door swung open while I was interviewing them and in bounded a Great Dane with a booming bark.

I curled into a ball on the sofa and screamed until the owner led him back to the kitchen, assuring me that Tiny was really a "big softie" and had "never bitten anyone". I've heard that many times over the years, but struggle to believe it.

Fearing dogs is perfectly rational because they have the potential to do great harm.

Just ask You Claim - the "Online Personal Injury Experts". According to their website, "Dogs make great loyal pets... are loving and have their own distinct personalities".

However, You Claim reveal that every year 200,000 people are bitten in the United Kingdom, and here's the scary part: "Even when a dog is playing, its strong jaw can inflict wounds to human flesh that cause pain and infection. Even breeds of animal that are known for their gentle temperament are potential biters."

They offer advice on how to minimise the risks: remain calm, avoid eye contact and put an object between you and the dog such as a purse, bag, or item of clothing.

My friend Chris, 23, from Holgate, could not have prevented what happened to him when he was 18-months-old. He made national headlines when he was mauled by the family Labrador. It was a docile animal who had never attacked anyone, but inexplicably went for Chris as he played in the front room.

He suffered appalling facial injuries and, despite intense surgery, will always carry the physical reminders. Chris insists his case was extremely rare and would not put him off owning a dog.

I'm finally confronting my fear - thanks to another Labrador called Charlie. His wonderful nature, boundless energy and handsome face finally won me over after much resistance.

I can now walk into his owners' house without flinching when he jumps up, although still feel unsettled when his wet nose finds its way to my nether regions.

I'm a long way from being cured, but am beginning to feel that pit bull loosening its grip on my ankle.

Good old Charlie is great therapy - but don't ask me to deliver your Evening Press just yet.

Updated: 10:35 Friday, January 27, 2006