12. My Wife the Dog Killer

Another trip to Puerto Rico. We're driving back to Arecibo around 1:00 AM from San Juan. Now, they had just built an new autopista (highway) called the 22. It's great in the daytime; cuts travel time from an hour and a half to around 30 minutes. The old road, el Número Dos (the #2) is still used for local traffic. But the 22 is murder at night. You have to drive with high beams (no lightposts at all) and the straightaways and gentle curves are really conducive to highway hypnosis. So I take the #2 back. Even though most of the stores are closed, the marquees and store signs are still lit, and there are many curves, not dangerous, to help keep your mind on the road.

Still, I am exhausted from a long day of beaching and sight-seeing and all, and I can feel myself falling asleep at the wheel. I asked Debbie to drive, because I am nodding out. But she is reluctant; she had given up her license because she was afraid of having a seizure while driving, and had not driven in some time. But I said I'd remain awake and talk to her, but I could drive no longer. She takes the wheel.

Deb's doing just fine, around 25 mph, making our way to Arecibo. We round a curve, and there's a pack of stray dogs crossing the road. Stray dogs in PR are as common as pigeons in New York. The dogs see us and scurry across the road, except for one. He remains on the other side of the double yellow line, seemingly waiting for us to pass. Deb's concentrating on driving, and doesn't see the dog. But I say nothing; I don't want to startle her and perhaps swerve into the dog, and the dog is looking right at us and is perfectly still. So long as the status quo remains, every one will be cool.

Well, she rounds the curve just fine, when suddenly, we're about three feet from the dog when this crazy mutt decides to step right in front of the car! BATHUMP!!! ARRR, ARRR ARRR! Debbie screams, "What the hell was that!?" "I think you just ran over a dog." "Oh, my god, we have to go back and help it!" "Naah, the rest of the pack is probably eating him by now!"

Deb feels awful! Naturally, I seize upon the moment to tease and torment her to no end (good-naturedly, of course). "Murderer! Dog Killer! Assassin! You aimed for that dog!" She's laughing and pleading, "Don't say that Nori!" I roll down the window and stick my head out. "Help! I'm being held prisoner by a dog serial killer!" Thank god no one was awake, or spoke english! She smacks me: "Get in here you nut!" I tell her not to be upset; the dog probably decided to commit suicide. He probably hated his life as a stray, his wife was a bitch, and he figured he'd end it all when he saw us coming.

I teased her for years after that. I miss my sweet little assassin.