Dogs were the bane of my paper round. I never had one attack me, but there was on particular house on Claremont Road with a german shepherd which I swear lay in wait for me on the other side of the door, waiting for me to poke the newspaper through the letterbox. I learned never to poke my hand through, just a couple of inches of newspaper through the door was enough. Then there would be an almighty WOOF, and then the paper would be pulled through the rest of the way by a powerful set of jaws, followed by the sound of shuffling, swearing, ripping and tearing.I'm not sure why that house ever had the paper delivered - it never sounded like enough of it survived to be readable.
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