Dog attack Stories

The summer of 1975 provided hot, sunny days and warm, balmy evenings in Detroit. Having a pool in our backyard meant late-night swims so we could go to bed and let the box fan in the window blow air on our wet hair, helping to cool us off enough to sleep. That was my parents’ idea of air conditioning. I never minded the heat. As hot as it was, it was nothing compared to the humid, tropical weather I experienced on my many...

KC Murphy and the Dog from Hell The oldest one of Murphy’s sons – the one they named “KC”, would rise each morn to the task he’d sworn – tossing papers for a fee. He’d hit the road with a basket load he rolled the night before, for a five-mile ride through the countryside – a fairly daunting chore. He’d make the trip at a modest clip – almost all the way, but a dreaded trial on the final mile would always spoil his day. I...