News Mom Whacks Mad Dog

          My mother was neighborhood correspondent for the area weekly newspaper, when I acquired neighborhood distribution rights for it.  The “neighborhood” encompassed three rural subdivisions and five miles of dirt roads, connected by a mile of blacktop.  I attached my new paper bag to my one-speed bike, and off I went on my newspaper career.

          I had been Old Faithful on my route for a couple of years, when an untimely flat tire threatened me with a long hike or failing my customers. Mom volunteered to drive me around.  This was a little embarrassing, since I prided myself on my stoic responsibility, but the news must go through.

          I still had a lot of walking to do, since I put each paper in the door, but I decided that this “motor route” wasn’t so bad after all.  Then we came to the Goss’s, and their collie-shepherd mix of snarling belligerence.  If “Copper” was out, this was the one house where I threw the paper into the driveway.  At that, he would often chase me, and I’d have to hop off and use my bike as a shield. If he wasn’t out, I’d go up to the door…but very carefully. 

          Today, no dog was in sight.  I tiptoed to the door.  Paper in, and g-e-n-t-l-y close…but it was one of those doors that always makes a clunk when it closes.  Instantly, the dog was around the corner in a copper and black fury.  I started to run, but I knew that wasn’t going to work.  I turned around in a crouch, ready to fight or die. 

        Fortunately, I didn’t have to do either.  In a heartbeat, Mom was beside me, screaming like a mamma bear and whapping that dog on the nose with a folded newspaper until it beat a hasty retreat.

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