A muddy, snowy side road (just to the side of this lovely building) led to the small, squat building of the Scotch Grove historical society. My Prius inched along toward it, over a hill, until my path was blocked by a farmer’s extremely territorial dog. He would not let me proceed or even turn around.
I was confronted by two of my gravest fears: dogs and getting stuck in the snow.
Frozen briefly with indecision, I eventually inched backwards over the hill. The dog did not pursue me.