I am so glad that "Cujo" is out of my hair, let alone, out of my life. 

About a few months ago, I was holed up in my house because this damn dog kept hanging around.  Whenever I tried to go outside, he'd fling himself against the door, barking voraciously, slinging spittle all over.  If you ask me, I think the dog had a death wish ... and I was his target.

I couldn't get out of the house without risking life and limb.  It got to be so bad I decided to take drastic action.  I killed the monster-beast and buried him.  Now my life is back to normal ... and my family and friends still don't know that I did the dog in. 

It is my own dirty little secret, and I don't think they should even know about it.

It is kind of nice not having this canine threatening to do me in every time I even attempt to step outside.  I can actually go to work and take care of my own affairs without having a sense of dread or fear.  Life for me is rather good, and I plan on keeping it that way.

It was like living a horror movie in real life.  All I could do was think about "Cujo" and the fact that he was out for blood.  My  blood.

I don't know why "Cujo" picked me as his potential target, but I got tired of being "hounded" (pun intended) by this beast; there was no telling what diseases the cur might have carried:  rabies or distemper or even the parvo virus comes to mind ...

I decided I had had more than enough, so I killed the motherfucker.

If I don't see another dog like him, it will be okay by me.  I have had more than enough with dogs, and if any other dog decides to act like "Cujo" did, I just might end up having to take some drastic action ...

*to be continued.*