True Life: I was attacked by a dog

... pretty much.

I need to preface this story with a conversation Kristen and I had a couple days ago...

I was running. I remember looking at this house with ghosts, that looked somewhat like white trash bags, hanging from the porch, when all of a sudden a savage beast shot out the door, snarling and growling and ready for a kill. I lurched to a stop as the creature, his eyes blazing red, circled me. As flashbacks to my early childhood started, a man's head popped out of the front door...

Man: Come here, boy!

Dog: Growl, rawr, snarl snarl

Me: Ummm

Man: I've got a treat, boy!

Dog: Rawrr, growl, snarl

Me: Uhhh

Man: Hold on (Directed at me, assumedly)

So, I stood there, about to be ripped to shreds and the guy goes back into his house. Not cool, dude. What seemed like hours later, the man emerged from his house, putting on a tee-shirt as he shut the door behind him.

Man: Come here, boy! (Seriously? That clearly is not working.)

Me: Ummmm

Man: Sorry, he doesn't like me. (Wait, what?)

Me: Oh, haha (Fake laugh used when there isn't really any other way to respond to an awkward comment)

At this point, the dog blocked me from going up the street so I mumbled something incoherent about turning around and started back the way I came. Thankfully, I'm alive and only endured severe emotional trauma.