The neighbors in the campsite next to us had a big black trailer with one of those aggressive names like Wolverine or Cougar, and a fierce-looking crop-eared pit bull tied to the metal drop-down stairs of their rig. The dog barked ferociously at Koa when we went out for a walk the next morning (Mike was already long gone on the lake.) I gave stink eye to the couple who owned him, sitting in camp chairs with their coffee.
Unwritten campground manners dictate that dog owners should shush their pets, especially scary ones, when others are passing peacefully.
“He’s a rescue,” the owner yelled over the cacophony as if that excused the noise and the dog’s lack of training.
I forced a smile and we hurried on by.
Our beloved Nalu on Maui (the inspiration for Keiki in my Paradise Crime Mysteries) had been a Chihuahua terrier with a fiercely protective side. She never knew how small she was and would confront other dogs regularly. As a result, she and I were the object of several pit bull attacks…
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