By Jon Richards
“Killer” was the most irritating little dog in the world, and he ruled the neighborhood. No bigger than a half loaf of bread, he would bark and attack anything within his reign of terror. His owner was our next door neighbor Miss Betty, the sweetest blue-haired old lady you’d ever want to meet.
When I was a kid my bedroom window on the second story gave me a bird’s-eye view of the neighborhood. I was able to keep a watch on everything. I spent a lot of time staring out the window, knowing it would be healthier to play outside. Mother was always harping on me about it . But who would want to have to deal with Killer? I would keep an eye on Killer for the lack of anything better to do. Miss Betty’s lawn was the cleanest in the neighborhood. Our lawn was yellow and spotted with poop, courtesy of Killer. Occasionally I would see a salesman running for his life; that was always good for a guilty laugh. Nowadays you would report such a dog to the police or your city’s animal control bureau, but back in those days you just put up with it, or hoped someone got really fed up and put a rifle to good use.
That was the way things were — then Sally moved to town. Directly across from Miss Betty. Killer gave the moving van and all of its contents his best and longest barking spree of the year. Sally must have been 5 years old, if that. A sweet red-haired little thing, Sally was deathly terrified and ran screaming to her mother. I could hear her crying deep inside her house from my bedroom.
I stretched out on my bed listening to the distant sobs. After awhile the crying stopped. Startled by the sudden silence I looked out my window. I saw Sally step out of her house, cross the street, and walk directly into Killer’s yard. Killer had a fit! Sally calmly reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him into Miss Betty’s bird bath! It was like she was tossing an old rag doll!
Killer lay on his back in the bird bath, I think in shock, flopping around. He rolled over and onto the ground, sulking his way back to the house.
After that we did not see much of Killer. We actually had a few salesmen come to our door selling their wares. Our lawn became clean and green again.
Several months later we moved away. After all these years I still wonder what became of Sally. She must have become quite a woman. Maybe a high-priced lawyer who never loses a case? A celebrated African game hunter? I like best to think she grew old as we all do, becoming a sweet, old blue-haired lady living alone with her little runt of a dog terrorizing the neighborhood.
