When I was in 7th grade I attended a private Christian school in McHenry, IL. That has it's own memories saved for another date. THe fact that I rode a bus home comes with it's own set of stories, which I am also storing in a special spot to unload later.
On this particular freezing cold Chicago suburb day, my bus driver dropped me off two streets early and I began to walk home. About half a block down I noticed two doberman pinchers who at the same time noticed me.
I think they owned that street.
They for SURE thought they owned that street. They took off after me and I took off into a nearby yard. Without thinking, I opened the first door I came to and ran inside the house.
An elderly woman in curlers came into the living room.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
I explained about the dogs and she looked out the window to see them panting at her door. Those dogs wanted to eat me for dinner!
The lady, who seemed awfully nice gave me some lemonade and called animal control. It was the last bit of niceness I ever saw in her.
She proceeded to curse at the person on the other end of the phone and when the dog catcher finally arrived (too late for her approval) she cussed at him and threw a house-shoe at his head.
I was a determined little missionary even at that time in my life and I promptly invited her to church, which brought on a new onslaught of foul language all aimed at me.
She called me "Nasty-Girl" every time she saw me after that, and every time I saw her, I asked her to church.
She never did say yes.
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