The Hound of the Baskervilles

Doggy and I are walking peacefully, enjoying the company of a couple of daring ladybugs and the promising perfume of yet another Monday morning, a new inspiring week. But then, the huge black dog comes dashing out of nowhere, its foul and heavy breath reaching us together with the drumming sound of his galloping legs. Doggy and I turn around, just in time to see the monster's anger shine in his bare white teeth and evil eyes. Doggy was taken by surprise, grabbed at the throat and violently pinned to the ground. He was no match and the growls and howls echoed high in the sky, while sand, branches and leaves were furiously scattered all around!

The vision from hell turned on my primal fear, soon translated into an uncontrolled, high pitched yell to call for help! (I had no idea I could scream that much and with such hysterical intensity...what do you know...)

When I was in high school, a friend of mine lent me the audio tape of The Hound of the Baskervilles. This was about the only novel I listened to in my life and I have to say that I have fond memories of the experience as well as mixed feelings since it was also quite scary to listen to it, especially in the evening.

The black dog that attacked peace-and-love doggy was no fictional character though. And if one good thing has to come out of this frightening real-life experience, it is the fact that my mind - once cooled down - went back to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story, the matrix for our own monster of the neighborhood. Our very own version of the tale ends happily, for doggy and I are both here to tell it and to advise to once in a while have a go at an audio novel (I regret not having done it more often); it is quite a new exercise for a brain used to the kind of concentration required when reading, but a captivating and just as entertaining one for sure.