Max was five years old, and he loved lots of things.

He loved swinging so high his toes touched the clouds.

He loved building towers out of blocks.

But there was one thing that made Max's tummy go wobbly and his heart go THUMP-THUMP-THUMP fast.

Dogs.

It didn't matter if the dog was big or small, loud or quiet.

When Max saw a dog, his hands got shaky.

His feet wanted to run far, far away.

Sometimes he even cried, even if the dog was gentle and just wagging its tail.

Max always thought, "What if the dog is scary? What if something bad happens?"

This wobbly feeling started to get in the way of Max's fun.

He didn't want to go to the park because dogs played there.

He didn't want to visit his best friend Ana, because Ana had a puppy named Biscuit.

Max's mom noticed that Max was missing out on things he used to enjoy.

"It's okay to feel scared sometimes," she told him, "but let's find someone who can help."