Allan watches the man come out of his house, look around, go back in. Then the dog comes out. Barks at a passerby. Allan gets out of his car. He is going to confront the man. But the dog rushes at him. Sees him across the street, getting out of his car, and rushes down the steps, though the rain, and lunges/jumps/attacks. Allan struggles, knocks the dog off his ankle, kicks the f*****g beast and climbs back in his car. He starts the engine, his heart pounding. The dog howls and growls and barks furiously at the window, its wet fur stuck to its face, its lips foaming. Is it rabid? Allan thinks. Oh God. He escaped the raccoons only to be bit by a rabid dog?
Allan drives off down the road. His leg aches. He doesn’t want to look down, to see the blood. When he passes the man’s house he looks
