Dispatches from the Stone Age

I have returned. It was a close call, but the lion did not eat me and the motorcycle drivers did not kill me. Nor did I drown in the Nile, contract a life-threatening illness, or perish in post-election violence.

Now that I'm back in the comforts of western civilization, I have time to read my email, such as this from the neighborhood watch:

This afternoon the dog from [omitted] was again running free... An elderly tenant of mine was apparently attacked, but not bitten, or if she was, the bite alone was not serious; however, she was taken by ambulance to the hospital, and may have suffered a heart attack. She was vomiting and did not look well when I arrived to see her being loaded into the ambulance.

Other neighbors were outside with clubs and a bow and arrow to ward off the dog.

Maybe when Rochester advances beyond the Stone Age we will domesticate dogs and use metal to create weapons.