In which Kari and Mike are attacked by a pack of wild dogs.

On the way to my parents’ house last night, we were passing through Liberty, a small town close to where I grew up. As we were driving through downtown, I noticed a few dogs on the other side of the road. Suddenly, the four dogs darted into the road and into our lane! There were two big dogs and two small dogs, and they were all barking at us and standing in the road! Every time they moved from in front of the car, Mike would try to move forward, and they would run in front of us again. This happened several times for a couple of minutes. We honked the horn and kept trying to move, but nothing happened. The pack of wild dogs had surrounded the car! We were trapped!

As we sat there trying to figure out what to do, a line of cars formed in the lane behind us. Growing tired of our antics, first one car and then another moved into the turn lane and passed us! That’s right – not only were we surrounded by dogs, but no one cared! It was around this point that I looked at Mike and started laughing uncontrollably. I was afraid that he was going to be upset, so I tried to hide it. Luckily, he finally got free of the dogs and was able to proceed, and he started laughing as well. “We were just attacked by a pack of wild dogs!” I said in between hysterical laughter. “It was like Kujo!”

This, ladies and gentlemen, is one more reason I don’t like dogs. As I told Mike, I would have reached a point where I was like, “Hey, survival of the fittest!” and just driven on, hitting whatever dog was necessary to get out of there. I mean, we weren’t on a dirt road! We were in downtown! There was a turn lane! For the record, Mike says the only reason he didn’t hit them was because he didn’t want to hurt his car. And Mike loves animals. (He did say that if the dogs had started throwing themselves at the car like Kujo, he would have driven on regardless.)

My favorite part of this story was something I didn’t find out until later: When we were telling my parents, Mike confessed that, as the dogs surrounded the car, he reached over and locked his door. That was his natural instinct. I didn’t see this, so go ahead and imagine it with me: A pack of wild dogs surrounding the car, and . . . Mike reaching over to lock his door. Safety first. (Before you ask, my door was already locked. No need to worry about me.)

On the way home, I was secretly hoping that the pack of dogs would attack us again, just to make the story even better. “There’s a pack of dogs running wild in Liberty,” I would say. “The streets just aren’t safe anymore.” However, no such luck. Around the same place where we were attacked, I saw a single large dog standing in a yard. Mike didn’t think it was the same as the ones we saw before, so I’ve decided it was standing guard for the others, looking and listening for unsuspecting cars to attack. As we drove by, it ran to the back yard, no doubt to rally the rest of its gang.

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