★★★★★ | Horror | Digital | Borrow | StoryGraph | Goodreads
This book stressed me out! I swear my blood pressure would creep up as rabid Cujo set about to do his evil. I even woke up in the night with images of the huge dog staring at me through the car window, waiting to tear me to shreds.
I think part of the unease was an encounter with a St. Bernard I had when I was little — maybe 12? I was pinned down by a huge one that later mauled (and killed?) a mailman. The details of this are sketchy in my mind. I can’t honestly remember if this happened to me, or I imagined it happening to me after learning about the dog and the mailman. I think it’s the latter, but whatever it is, my subconscious mind revved up my adrenal glands as I read of this other St. Bernard.
Highlights
“He don’t do nothing but sit in an office and push papers. People like him is half the trouble with this world, because their brains have got unplugged from their hands.”
“People buy different things to . . . to show themselves that they’re successful, I suppose. There’s no accounting for it. But usually it’s something they couldn’t have when they were poor.”
Wasn’t it amazing, the amount of crud the human mind was capable of storing up? And wasn’t it amazing how easily it all came spewing out when there was nothing else to engage it? Like a subconscious garbage disposal running in reverse.