The werewolves promised blood. Most townsfolk panicked and made silver bullets.
Dixie scoffed. “Melt down Nana’s silverware? For furries?”
Even skeptics rigged their yards with barbed wire.
“Not on my Kentucky blue,” she said, driving home from Target. “I can handle pups.”
When they howled at her door, Dixie switched on her new vacuum cleaner.