hauntedliving

When the news came on TV about a husband and wife who were killed in North Georgia by dogs it brought back some frightening memories for me.  My brother and I could have suffered the same fate as the couple in North Georgia.

I was eleven years old and my little brother, Barry, was six years old.  We wanted to go over and play with our cousins, Shannon and Jack, at their house which was only about a fourth of a mile (if that far) from our house.  To get to our cousins house we had to go past two houses next to our house and turn up a dirt road and go over two hills, one of which was steep, to reach their house.  It wasn’t far and we lived in a rural area that was very safe.

I decided to ride my bike there with Barry riding on the back of my bike.  We got to our cousin’s house that afternoon and played until our Aunt reminded us it was getting late.  Barry and I jumped on the bike and raced for home.  Just as we were riding down the steep hill a pack of dogs surrounded the bike.  The dogs snarled and snapped at us while I tried to drive though them.  Just when it looked as if we would be able to escape one of largest dogs grabbed my ankle and pulled.  The bike wrecked and Barry and I both went over the handle bars and onto the dirt road.  A quick thinking neighbor who had been watching grabbed his gun and fired into the air.  The gun shots scared the dogs who then ran into the woods.  We were lucky to live through our encounter with wild dogs.  Sadly the couple in North Georgia were not so lucky.

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