Had a frightful walk with Hazel last night. It was early but dark – around 6 pm – and we were walking on a busy sidewalk next to a vacant grassy lot. All of a sudden we hear the sound of barking dogs and soon see three feral dogs running at us with teeth bared. They shot through the fence and went right for Hazel. As she wrestled with one of them, I try to fend off the others. The cigarette man comes running to my aid, beating them back with his box of wares. I run across the street, and they keep coming at us. It was amazing in some ways to see the pack work: they circled us, growling and lunging. It was impossible to run away, since they seemed to be everywhere: to turn toward one was to turn my back on another. Imagine it: I’m in the middle of the street shrieking at these dogs, waving my arms frantically and kicking at them. I fancy that I was a bizarre combination of hysterical and fierce! Finally, one man jumped out of his car and sent the creatures scurrying away long enough for Hazel and me to cross a busy street make our getaway. Poor Hazel! The old girl can’t get a break here.