the insurance company. I could have written down that my life's savings was stolen and they couldn't have cared less.
I'm making my way out of the shed, gas tank in hand, when I am met with a nice surprise - silence! I try looking through the cracks in the fence but the wood panels are too close together to see anything. I listen closely but don't hear any movement or breathing. I can't imagine Cujo has given up so quickly, especially considering the closest non-human food I've seen is a cat that's forty-five miles away, but I'm not sure how much Cujo likes Chinese food.
After listening for a few minutes, I decide I have to peek out to see if Cujo really is gone. I walk over to the fence door, pull down the latch, and swing the door open. I take a few cautious steps away from the door. Still seeing nothing, I look around the corner and gasp at what I see. Cujo is standing there on the road. He jerks his head up and his expression immediately turns to rage, running after me like he did before. I run to the door, which is still cracked open. Just as I get in and shut the door, I catch a glimpse of Cujo's evil eyes as his attempt to get me fails for the second time. The door automatically locks in place when I close it, and I am safe once again. Cujo continues barking his fury at me.
"Ha, you little piece of shit. Missed me again didn't you?"
I suppose I've hit rock bottom, talking trash to a dog by myself with nobody around. Outrunning this little monster twice now though is cause for a little gloating.
My happiness is short-lived because I realize for the rest of the day I'm stuck here. There's two or three hours of daylight left and I'm sure Cujo has no intentions of leaving any time soon. My house is only a few blocks away; if I sprinted it would take about five minutes. If Cujo is around and sinks his teeth in me, I might not make it back alive. Even though I have a shovel to protect me now, it still might not be a match for Cujo. This dog is mean; a shovel to the head might not even faze him. My best and only option now is to wait it out and hope he's gone in the morning. Then I can make the sprint to my house and pray to God he's moved on to better things.
That still leaves me here in this empty yard though. I make my way up the patio steps, and approach the back door. Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked! I turn the doorknob, "Damn!" it's locked. Well this is just great. What am I supposed to do now? Camp in the backyard all night? I'm not one to have any problems sleeping, but if it involves sleeping outside I'd at least like to have a tent to keep the bugs out.
I step down from the patio and see there's one bedroom window. I could take the shovel and bash my way in. My conscience is sending signals this is wrong, but I'm not going to sleep out here in the middle of the yard all night. Besides, my appetite is back and I'm starving.
I go back into the shed, grab the shovel, and go over my options, making sure I'm ready to commit this felony. If I were a good little boy and tried to make it home, I'm almost guaranteed to find Cujo. That's something I want to avoid at all costs. I could camp out in the backyard tonight, starving and freezing to death. Or, the third option, I smash through this window and have myself a feast on whatever cereal they have, along with a warm bed to sleep in. The only downside to option three is a moral issue. That and if the owners make their way home and see some weirdo sleeping in their bed, they'd beat me to death with this shovel.
All things considered, I decide option three is worth the risk. With my eyes closed, I make my best baseball swing at the window and hear a loud crashing sound as the shovel successfully blasts through the window. Glass explodes everywhere, but I've managed to stay safe this time. If only I had this shovel earlier today.
Unfortunately, I've learned that glass doesn't break quite like it does in the movies - shattering into a million tiny little
I'm making my way out of the shed, gas tank in hand, when I am met with a nice surprise - silence! I try looking through the cracks in the fence but the wood panels are too close together to see anything. I listen closely but don't hear any movement or breathing. I can't imagine Cujo has given up so quickly, especially considering the closest non-human food I've seen is a cat that's forty-five miles away, but I'm not sure how much Cujo likes Chinese food.
After listening for a few minutes, I decide I have to peek out to see if Cujo really is gone. I walk over to the fence door, pull down the latch, and swing the door open. I take a few cautious steps away from the door. Still seeing nothing, I look around the corner and gasp at what I see. Cujo is standing there on the road. He jerks his head up and his expression immediately turns to rage, running after me like he did before. I run to the door, which is still cracked open. Just as I get in and shut the door, I catch a glimpse of Cujo's evil eyes as his attempt to get me fails for the second time. The door automatically locks in place when I close it, and I am safe once again. Cujo continues barking his fury at me.
"Ha, you little piece of shit. Missed me again didn't you?"
I suppose I've hit rock bottom, talking trash to a dog by myself with nobody around. Outrunning this little monster twice now though is cause for a little gloating.
My happiness is short-lived because I realize for the rest of the day I'm stuck here. There's two or three hours of daylight left and I'm sure Cujo has no intentions of leaving any time soon. My house is only a few blocks away; if I sprinted it would take about five minutes. If Cujo is around and sinks his teeth in me, I might not make it back alive. Even though I have a shovel to protect me now, it still might not be a match for Cujo. This dog is mean; a shovel to the head might not even faze him. My best and only option now is to wait it out and hope he's gone in the morning. Then I can make the sprint to my house and pray to God he's moved on to better things.
That still leaves me here in this empty yard though. I make my way up the patio steps, and approach the back door. Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked! I turn the doorknob, "Damn!" it's locked. Well this is just great. What am I supposed to do now? Camp in the backyard all night? I'm not one to have any problems sleeping, but if it involves sleeping outside I'd at least like to have a tent to keep the bugs out.
I step down from the patio and see there's one bedroom window. I could take the shovel and bash my way in. My conscience is sending signals this is wrong, but I'm not going to sleep out here in the middle of the yard all night. Besides, my appetite is back and I'm starving.
I go back into the shed, grab the shovel, and go over my options, making sure I'm ready to commit this felony. If I were a good little boy and tried to make it home, I'm almost guaranteed to find Cujo. That's something I want to avoid at all costs. I could camp out in the backyard tonight, starving and freezing to death. Or, the third option, I smash through this window and have myself a feast on whatever cereal they have, along with a warm bed to sleep in. The only downside to option three is a moral issue. That and if the owners make their way home and see some weirdo sleeping in their bed, they'd beat me to death with this shovel.
All things considered, I decide option three is worth the risk. With my eyes closed, I make my best baseball swing at the window and hear a loud crashing sound as the shovel successfully blasts through the window. Glass explodes everywhere, but I've managed to stay safe this time. If only I had this shovel earlier today.
Unfortunately, I've learned that glass doesn't break quite like it does in the movies - shattering into a million tiny little
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