The Bad News Was That The Yard Contained A Dog. A Very, Very Large Dog, Wide And Hairy, Like A Cross Between A Rottweiler And A Goodyear Blimp.
The Rottweiler Stood His Ground And Waited For Me To Take The Next Step In The Dance Of Ritualized Intimidation. Instead, I Leaped At Him. Screw Ritual. Now Was Not The Time To Stand On Ceremony.
When Somebody Comes To Your Front Door, And They're Screaming Obscenities At You And Telling You To Come Outside, And You've Had Your Life Threatened Several Times, You Take It Pretty Seriously. It's The Reason I Have A Rottweiler.
