I Want to Kill the Dog by Richard M. Cohen

Author:Richard M. Cohen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2012-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Sam was hefty, with muscular legs. The animal was built like a linebacker. She had buckteeth, or was it fangs? Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes you just remember the good stuff. Occasionally I noticed how sharp those instruments of death and destruction were. Sam’s jaws did seem particularly powerful.

Plus, there was something foreboding about Sam. After the dog grabbed on to a ball or stuffed animal, usually there was not much left to play with. I would obsess about razor-sharp teeth in my troubled sleep. Truthfully, I was afraid of the animal.

Sam’s bark was shockingly robust and very unladylike. Some might even call the throaty eruption threatening. Of course, what can you expect from a female version of Mike Tyson? Do you get the feeling I am leading up to something? Willie had gone to a better place just in time, I figured. Sam would be his warm and cuddly stand-in. Right.

Sam terrorized the neighborhood. People were genuinely afraid of her. Meredith and I routinely receive a lot of Express Mail, FedEx packages, and the like. When delivery trucks roared down the street and timidly ventured onto our driveway, a loud, lumbering lug with a deep bark and bayonets for teeth would take charge of the Welcome Wagon. Reactions came swiftly. No complaints, just raw fear.

The frightened UPS driver traveled part of the way down the driveway, put away any thought of a signature, and heaved packages out his open sliding door before Sam could jump in and eat his leg. Occasionally I would witness the encounter. The look of utter terror on the guy’s face was hard to describe, resembling Barbara’s in Night of the Living Dead when she first confronted a ghoul.

Other companies delivering goods and services simply refused deployment to the war zone known as our property. I watched the mailman age over time, as if he were the president in a time of war. Sam sat on the front steps each day, flexing and waiting, ready to do battle.

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