Thursday, August 18, 2005

(This pause in blog action brought to you by a pitbull attack)

Joey is recovering from two bite wounds. Joey is the wonder dog although at the moment he seems a little unnerved.

Mom (me) is recovering from holding the other dog owner's hand while she cried about having to get rid of her dog, a pitbull great dane mix, after his third attempt to kill a dog in our neighborhood. Meanwhile he is staring at me through the same crack in the door that had freed him accidentally the night before.

There was no question, in the direct line of this dog's advance, what his intentions were. And I didn't used to be scared of dogs. Any dogs. Suddenly, small, vulnerable, terrified.

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