A scary thing

Lauren Rae Scarth

I took a deep breath and ran down the street, throwing the newspapers as quickly as I could, hoping I wouldn't see that big black dog.

I was terrified of this fellow. He had bitten the carrier before me, and I had already been bitten once by another dog—and he had seemed friendly. I thought this big one would eat me alive!

It was scary. Every day this dog would come running out, biting the bags my papers were in and nipping at my heels. The only thing that saved me, or so I thought, was that I could pedal away from him fast, on my bike.

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