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Dave, the buddy I mentioned, lived with his wife, Chloe, in the countryside just outside of town. As he knew I had just gone through a rather painful breakup, Dave insisted I stop sulking and come to his party. Arriving at the party, I walked on in and found Dave standing in the kitchen. I handed him a bottle of Cabernet from the Country Crest Winery in Washington, an award winning vintage of moderate price. He set it aside and pulled me out back to the bar he had set up. “Wine later,” he said, “Let’s get you properly lubricated.” With that he poured me a Vodka 7, strong, but not too strong. “Mingle,” he ordered. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Guests had thrown blankets on the expansive lawn, well populated with fruitless mulberry trees, famous for their copious amounts of shade. Although the sun was retreating from the day, the appeal of a sheltering canopy is probably hardwired into human DNA. Jazz, blues and rock alternated from the speakers Dave had moved outdoors. I. They’ll be afraid to shoot ... you got it partner?” Steve said, pulling Dog close to talk to him.Dog broke loose and ran through the underbrush, gone from sight in an instant. Steve slowly made his way in a wide circle, coming closer and closer as he scanned the brush and trees. He knew they would be close enough to see his cabin... He spotted two of them. They were hunkered down behind two trees in sight of the cabin. He sat quietly looking all around until he saw the third one, a younger man. He was squatting behind a tree, looking through his binoculars.The younger man never heard the big dog that walked right up behind him – close enough for him to hear something breathing next to his ear. He turned to see the snarling, slobbering face of the huge black dog. The ferocious animal was merely inches from his face, his teeth bared in a snarl. His hair standing up on his neck and shoulders.“FUCK! Get back! OH FUCK, NO!” he cried, falling backwards. Sitting on his butt, he kicked at.
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