Dog HILL
by Margaret F.

It was spring break. Time for fun with me and my siblings. My siblings Carmen and Owen were riding their bikes with me in the alley behind our house. If you walk down the alley, this is what you would see: about 7 houses going down the alley, each of them different, then a crossroad. You can go to a small bit of alley before the road comes. We call that Turnaround, because you have to turn around before you reach the road. The other way is Dog Hill. I’ll explain why. 

Carmen and I had been going on walks over the summer, and we both knew that there is a scary brown dog. It is very large, and likes to jump around with such ease that you think he could jump right over the fence surrounding the backyard. Also, add snarling teeth and a very loud bark. You take an ordinary steep hill, then you add a ferocious dog barking at you as you try to keep yourself upright. To make matters even worse, there are bushes, street signs, broken branches of trees, and even an old shed in the dog’s yard that he likes to hide behind, then jump out and scare you halfway down the hill. 

We decided that we would ride in a line, and switch who was in the front after that person had gone down the alley, down and up Dog Hill, then back up the alley. I was the first person in line. I was kind of scared, but also happy that I was the first to go down our new route. I went down the main alley, easy-peasy. Now came Dog Hill. 

I went halfway down, then the dog jumped out from behind the large bush in the yard, teeth bared. I raced down the rest of the hill, but now I had to get back up. Shifting my bike to 1 for friction, I carefully pedaled one step, then another, but then I was back within the dog’s sight. Barking all the way, he ran along the fence, chasing me up the hill, before finally, I stood panting in front of my siblings. 

I was done with bike riding for the day, but tomorrow I would check to see if the dog was really there, or if he was just a daytime nightmare. (Guess what: He was real! I’m not crazy!)