ruff ruff

Got me again

The barn where Serenity keeps the horses—and teaches, and does all that—is about five miles down the road from the farm where we live. 

Now, there is a guy with a silver Jeep and a big German Shepherd who lives somewhere in between the two places, and without fail, at least once a month, I will pass him.

He's always got that damn dog in the back of the Jeep. And the Jeep is open, no matter the weather. It could be twenty degrees and freezing or eighty degrees and pouring rain. It doesn't matter. The windows are down and the dog is barking at every. single. car. that. passes. by.

And that dog... he has it timed perfectly.

When you drive by, right at the moment you are window-to-window, he barks. And it scares the ever-living crap out of me. Every. Single. Time.

The first time he did it, I didn't know what had happened. I was driving down the road at 45 miles an hour, and suddenly it sounded like a dog had teleported into the back seat of my car. It absolutely scared the piss out of me.

Now, I see him coming. I see the silver Jeep. I see that stupid dog hanging out the back. I know it's coming.

The dog barks. And it still scares me.