Deja vu all over again.

 After the dog pack in the corral incident the other day, I thought the neighbors would get wise. Nope.

Less than a week after their dogs were chasing our horses and their pals next door into frenzy, I took the Wonder Husky for a walk. Suddenly, from the other side of the street, came a mass of flying fur that clipped me on my rebuilt leg. The dogs crashed into Tipper, age 12, knocking her flat, snarling and trying to bite her. I screamed. One of the dogs was the brown mutt that was in the pack.

I shouted to the young woman and her boyfriend with some unrepeatable vocabulary words. She denied being the owner of the dogs from the other day. Did they offer help? No. Did they apologize? No. They got the dogs into her Lexus SUV that Daddy probably bought her so she be safe driving home after a party and drove off. The only thing that happened was the boyfriend laughed at me as I called animal control on my speed dial and gave them the license number of the car.

When dog incidents happen on our walk, if the owner is kind and apologizes, I am usually nice and don’t press charges. This time, these idiots are going down. I have reports to file, and am finding out who owns the student rental so I can complain. I’m sure vicious, at-large dogs are not covered by homeowner’s insurance.

I carry a phone when I’m out and about. Sometimes I carry spray, which, when used could backfire. I’ll revert to taking my nine iron, I guess. The unfortunate thing is that it’s not the dogs’ fault. But you can’t use a nine iron on a person.

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