Why I Ignored the "Beware of Dog" Sign

Case File #066: A routine process server story.

Apr 05, 2026

Process Server Story with Siberian Husky — Like humans, Siberian Huskies have personality patterns, too.

Audio Version

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One blue eye. One brown.

I had a Siberian husky once. Reddish coloring, beautiful dog, wild as heck. Docile with kids but always full of energy. We lived in a townhouse in Germantown with an 18x24-foot backyard.

That’s not nearly enough room for a breed bred to run from Anchorage to Nome ten hours a day in freezing temperatures.

When he’d escape, and he would escape, it was like catching a greased pig. He’d run, evade, circle back. I swear to this day that once, after a long chase, he stood there and smiled at me before sprinting straight back to the house to wait for me at the door.

Huskies are fun. Incredibly intelligent. Exuberant, shall we say.

They’re also not violent or dangerous in any way, shape, or form.

The Serve

I pulled up to an aging bungalow in need of some TLC located in Hyattsville. Real working man kind of neighborhood. Routine summons. Auto accident stuff. Just give it to your insurance company and call it a day. Most people don’t realize why they pay the premiums for car insurance. Accidents happen. This moment is why you pay the premiums.

The house was surrounded by a chain-link fence. Beware of Dog sign on the gate. Trash in the yard. Sitting in a white rocker on the porch: a gruff-looking white guy, unshaved, beer belly that took effort, more effort in his hand.

These guys are always fun. I prepare for a berating.

As I approached the gate with a Maglite and summons in hand, I saw a large dog galloping toward me. Quiet. Smiling. Making a beeline.

Simultaneously, I heard: “I wouldn’t enter. You don’t want to deal with the dog.”

I always carried my two-D-battery Maglite. Day or night, rain or shine. In the right hands, these flashlights are incapacitating weapons. Maybe we can get into that later. But I digress.

So there I am at the chain-link gate. Gruff guy on the porch. Dog closing in.

One blue eye. One brown.

A Siberian husky.

I opened the gate. Petted “Cujo.” Gave him a biscuit I keep in my jacket for exactly these kind of times. He walked up the porch steps with me happy to smell someone new.

Gruff guy took a sip of his IC Light. Light? It’s not working, pal. But I digress, again.

I smiled. He smiled.

“You have a husky?” It was a statement more than a question.

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.”

I handed him the summons and said in a friendly tone, “You’re served.”

He looked at the papers. Looked at his dog. Looked at me.

“Think our football team will be any good this year?” He had already moved on.

“As long as we have Joe Gibbs, I expect so.” I responded.

“Wanna cold one?” He offered.

His husky was now sitting between us, panting, looking up at his owner like he’d just made a new friend.

Which, I guess, he had.

NOTE: Your job here, should you choose to accept it, is to read the Remembrances below and then Comment whether they are TRUE, TRUE(ish) or FICTION in the Comments section. Then check The Reveal.

What I Remember About That Day

The “Beware of Dog” sign was hand-painted on a piece of plywood.

Gruff guy was drinking Iron City Light—12-ounce can, half empty.

The husky’s name was Duke. He told me after I served him.

The dog had one blue eye on the right, one brown on the left.

There were three empty beer cans on the porch railing.

I petted Duke for a solid two minutes before leaving. He leaned into it.

Your move: True? True(ish)? Fiction?

How to Play:

Drop your guesses in the comments (TRUE / TRUE(ish) / FICTION for each)
First person to get all six correct wins bragging rights
After leaving comment, tap the reveal picture below.

The Process Server Chronicles

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