If creepy things older humanity come out of the walls to eat me, the dog will stop them, right?

My parents have gone off to the Test Pilot School Graduation banquet/Dining Out (or maybe it's a Dining In--I never can remember the difference, though I think it has something to do with how fancy a dress uniform you wear), so I'm here alone with the dog, eating cinnamon rolls for dinner and nursing the finger I burned ironing my Dad's tuxedo shirt (why do blisters created by burns hurt approximately one thousand times more than the ones you get from running?).

Subsequent evenings alone will not be spent reading H.P. Lovecraft. "The Rats in the Walls" is gloriously creepy and reminded me of the Herds of the Dark from Barbara Hambly's Time of the Dark trilogy, but reading it while you're by yourself at night and can hear insects hitting the window screens with little "thud" sounds might not be the world's best plan. Ditto for "The Lurking Fear."

I think I'll go read that Outsiders fic where Nightwing gets turned into a girl, instead.