was gone. Crap! I’d forgotten that he had to cover a football game or something for the paper tonight. I was too keyed up to sleep and I wasn’t hungry. Maybe another bath would be good?
As soon as I stopped the car, I could smell the rain in the air. I love the smell of a storm coming; it’s like pure electricity. I quickly put the top up on the Jeep. The first sprinkles started to fall as I dashed out to the street to get our trash can and the mail. I wondered how long Alan would leave the can out if I didn’t put it back. Days probably. He never thinks of the day-to-day stuff, he’s so lost in his world of words. Well, it’s too late to retrain him now. Good thing he’s got other talents.
That thought moved my mind in a steamy direction. Made me wonder what time he’d get home tonight.
I put the lid back on the trash can and started over to the mail box. The warm, wet night felt wonderful; the drizzle wasn’t too cold or too hot. I tilted my head back to feel the rain on my face. It was very dark. The clouds, ready to burst with rain, had blocked out the moon. I hoped it would clear by morning; I could use a good run.
The mail box held mostly junk mail. As I closed it, the rose bushes to my left shook. I jumped, shocked, and my breath caught, nerves snapping, when a tremendous howl shattered the drizzle’s quiet pitter-pat.
I froze. Danger! Fight or Flight. Adrenaline rushed my system. Should I attack or run? I wanted to know. I wanted to run.
My curiosity won. In the back of my mind I hoped that I wouldn’t need nine lives.
I crept toward the sound in the roses. The howl turned into a whimper as I approached, making me more confident that this situation wasn’t dangerous. The animal shaking the fifty-year-old rose bush had to be huge; god only knew what it could be. We don’t have any large animals this close to town. Shit, could a bear have gotten this far in?
I used the mail in my hand to push aside the thorny branches of the rose bush. Just then the clouds cooperated, sliding away from the moon for a moment, long enough for me to see dark eyes and a head the size of a basketball.
Horrified, I jumped back about a foot. What the fu...?
I couldn’t even see the whole body, but it was gigantic, easily heavier than I by seventy-five pounds. A low whimper and the sound of the animal’s labored breathing moved me into action.
“Hang on, buddy.” My hands trembled as I moved the bushes aside enough to get a better look. This time I wasn’t as shocked by the sheer size of it, and I could see that it was some kind of monster dog. I’d never seen anything like it. It whimpered again, straining to pull away from a low branch on the bush, all the while tearing and cutting itself on thorns.
I tried to sooth him. “Were you chasing a cat or something? It’s okay. I’ll get you out.”
I’ve always had a way with animals. I’m not sure why, but this one seemed to like me, too. It stopped struggling long enough for me to see the branch that its collar was twisted up on. If I could release the collar, the dog could get free.
Hoping that my animal magnetism held out, I tentatively reached my hand down in front of its huge jaws for the buckle on the leather collar. If it decided to bite me now, I’d lose my hand. I’ve seen pit bulls attack, and this dog made them look like lap dogs.
I hoped there was a name on the collar; I couldn’t imagine one of my neighbors having a pony-sized dog like this. Hissing through the pain of the thorns scratching my arms, I grabbed the leather and pulled it tighter to release the old-fashioned buckle. Hell, even the collar was big enough to remind me of my father’s old belts.
Finally, I could undo the buckle, and the dog struggled free. We both backed away from the bush. I didn’t take my eyes off it. I remembered that Dad had always said, “you can’t turn your back on a wild animal, not even for a second,” so I slowly backed into the driveway, careful to
As soon as I stopped the car, I could smell the rain in the air. I love the smell of a storm coming; it’s like pure electricity. I quickly put the top up on the Jeep. The first sprinkles started to fall as I dashed out to the street to get our trash can and the mail. I wondered how long Alan would leave the can out if I didn’t put it back. Days probably. He never thinks of the day-to-day stuff, he’s so lost in his world of words. Well, it’s too late to retrain him now. Good thing he’s got other talents.
That thought moved my mind in a steamy direction. Made me wonder what time he’d get home tonight.
I put the lid back on the trash can and started over to the mail box. The warm, wet night felt wonderful; the drizzle wasn’t too cold or too hot. I tilted my head back to feel the rain on my face. It was very dark. The clouds, ready to burst with rain, had blocked out the moon. I hoped it would clear by morning; I could use a good run.
The mail box held mostly junk mail. As I closed it, the rose bushes to my left shook. I jumped, shocked, and my breath caught, nerves snapping, when a tremendous howl shattered the drizzle’s quiet pitter-pat.
I froze. Danger! Fight or Flight. Adrenaline rushed my system. Should I attack or run? I wanted to know. I wanted to run.
My curiosity won. In the back of my mind I hoped that I wouldn’t need nine lives.
I crept toward the sound in the roses. The howl turned into a whimper as I approached, making me more confident that this situation wasn’t dangerous. The animal shaking the fifty-year-old rose bush had to be huge; god only knew what it could be. We don’t have any large animals this close to town. Shit, could a bear have gotten this far in?
I used the mail in my hand to push aside the thorny branches of the rose bush. Just then the clouds cooperated, sliding away from the moon for a moment, long enough for me to see dark eyes and a head the size of a basketball.
Horrified, I jumped back about a foot. What the fu...?
I couldn’t even see the whole body, but it was gigantic, easily heavier than I by seventy-five pounds. A low whimper and the sound of the animal’s labored breathing moved me into action.
“Hang on, buddy.” My hands trembled as I moved the bushes aside enough to get a better look. This time I wasn’t as shocked by the sheer size of it, and I could see that it was some kind of monster dog. I’d never seen anything like it. It whimpered again, straining to pull away from a low branch on the bush, all the while tearing and cutting itself on thorns.
I tried to sooth him. “Were you chasing a cat or something? It’s okay. I’ll get you out.”
I’ve always had a way with animals. I’m not sure why, but this one seemed to like me, too. It stopped struggling long enough for me to see the branch that its collar was twisted up on. If I could release the collar, the dog could get free.
Hoping that my animal magnetism held out, I tentatively reached my hand down in front of its huge jaws for the buckle on the leather collar. If it decided to bite me now, I’d lose my hand. I’ve seen pit bulls attack, and this dog made them look like lap dogs.
I hoped there was a name on the collar; I couldn’t imagine one of my neighbors having a pony-sized dog like this. Hissing through the pain of the thorns scratching my arms, I grabbed the leather and pulled it tighter to release the old-fashioned buckle. Hell, even the collar was big enough to remind me of my father’s old belts.
Finally, I could undo the buckle, and the dog struggled free. We both backed away from the bush. I didn’t take my eyes off it. I remembered that Dad had always said, “you can’t turn your back on a wild animal, not even for a second,” so I slowly backed into the driveway, careful to
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