Dog Days

I awake to a sore face, and the neighbor's dogs barking violently and furious. I have not heard them bark like that before, and it made me uncomfortable. The barking echoed through the streets and felt close and threatening. I try to block it out, but can't. Then I hear wailing; a human plead. It's desperate and frightened, and between sobs I finally make out the word "dad". Over and over. And if I could move I would peer out the window to make sure this young boy is not in danger, because it sure sounded as if he was. I waited for the word "help" but only heard "dad". Screaming and crying, louder and louder and I'm trying to wake up. I'm trying to fall back asleep. I hear then the father's voice, with a negative connotation that was likely just my own, but he asks in a strong manner that was nearly as loud as the barking that had seemed to cease, if the dog had bitten the young boy. The boy is crying and crying and replies "yes", and it's drawn out even longer and more said than "dad". I hear the choking of the scared boy, and imagine the father trying to find is son. I turn on some music. 
I need to start this day.