I've had several scary things happen over the years. The first four happened between 1976 and 1981 in Las Vegas:
1. Neighbor was high on cocaine. He had recently been arrested after a fight with his wife got ugly. Another neighbor had loaned him the bail money and asked me to tell "Jim" that he needed it for his rent. I knocked on his door, he started screaming and came out in his underwear with his 1911 and stuck it in my face, and alternated between threatening me and my dog, "I'll kill you too!". My dog had a fear of guns and they were one of the few things he was scared of, so he wanted to bail out and leave. Strangely, I wasn't scared at all, I was angry. The neighbor who had loaned him the bail money appeared behind him and was signaling me to drop so he could take him out. I didn't do it because I had no idea what that signal meant. After a couple of minutes of him yelling at me, he went inside. Someone had called the police, but they said it wasn't loaded, so they gave him a pass.
Second one I was working as a security guard at one of the downtown casinos. We also did the security for the place across the street. I was checking the lot and saw a Chevy pickup with a shell on the back of it and the shell was open. I walked up and saw two pairs of blue eyes light up. I didn't have to see the dogs they belonged to to know they were big. Two very large German Shepherds came out and the one appeared to be seriously thinking about attacking. I pulled my Dan Wesson 15-2, and yelled, "STOP, GET BACK IN THE TRUCK!", and the "boss dog" took a step towards me, so I cocked the gun and said, "NO!", and they both jumped back in and I closed the door up. I found the owner and told him he had to bring the dogs into his room for the night.
The third one was really crazy. I was going home after work and was carrying the same gun as above. I was at a light and there were two guys in a red Chevy Nova in front of me. When the light turned green, they just sat there, so I honked the horn for like maybe one second. They took off, but I could see them thrashing around inside. At the next light, they both came out of the car with aluminum baseball bats, screaming they were going to kill me. I pulled my DW, put the muzzle out the window and said, "Get back in your car!", the driver said, "He's got a cannon!", and they jumped into the Nova and took off. I was almost home and got there, fed my dogs, and was thinking about calling 911 on them, and it turned out they had already called the police and told a very different story from what had really happened. The police asked me to put my gun away and I did, and then went out and talked to them. The two whackjobs said I pulled my gun "for no reason at all", and that I said I was going to kill them. I told them what really happened, but at first they said, "It's your word against theirs!", so I asked them, "So if it happened the way they say it did, why can I tell you what colors the baseball bats were?". One was blue and silver, the other bronze and silver. The cops let them fill out a report on it, and while they were doing that, looked in the car and saw the bats in the back seat just like I said. After they signed the reports, the cops told them, "Turn around and put your hands behind your back!", They got all upset, and even when the cops told them why they were being arrested, they still didn't get what had happened. They ended up getting probation and a $500 fine each.
I was working at a gas station on the West side of Vegas with another guy. We had had no real problems until that night in the six months I had worked there. I saw the other guy, "Billy" fighting with someone in front of the "booth". I went out to see what was going on, and there were three guys shoving him. I didn't see the 4th one until he came from behind the pumps, with a black revolver, probably an RG .22. One of the other 3 was shoving a .38 nickel S&W looking gun into Billy's face and one of the unarmed guys, a huge guy, slammed Billy into the side of the booth, and said,"Hey! We aren't messing around!". I told Billy to just let them have the money. And that's when it got weird. One guy we knew, he had been coming in daily for cigarettes and gas, he even tipped us the change! What they and Billy didn't know was I had, because of problems with the drop safe, had the whole shift's take in my pockets, along with my just cashed paycheck. All they got was $48 out of the till, and 4 cartons of Kool cigarettes. That's it. I had over $700 from the shift, along with about $300 of my pay. They never took anything from me, and left.
We both picked the guy we knew out of the mug books almost instantly. He got arrested, skipped bail, skipped AGAIN, and went back to his home town, Chicago, where he shot a liquor store owner who knew him by name. The store owner weighed about 400 pounds and the weak and old .38 he shot him with went in about an inch, and he fainted from the shock. He took a couple of bottles of booze and about $100 in cash. When the owner woke up, he called the cops and said, "XXXXXXX XXXXXXX shot me and held me up!". He got picked up, and was sent back to Nevada. He was openly threatening both Billy and I when we were on the witness stand, "You're dead man!". His lawyer was unable to get him to stop. He was found guilty in about 45 minutes (They ate lunch) and I went to the sentencing, and I was glad I did. The judge was known as "Maximum Bob" gave him a total of 30 years. The prosecutor asked for 12. He went ballistic and tried to get to the judge, who jumped out of his chair, pulled up his robe as the baliffs wrestled him into shackles, and pulled a 1911 out and said, "Don't make me kill you son". He could be heard yelling for a long time after he was dragged away. Off to Chicago he went and got another 50 years added on for the robbery and attempted murder, felon with a gun, etc. He died in prison about 25 years later, in Illinois at about 63.
Last one was in Ohio. A neighbor's kid was a big drug user. He would get high and let their dog, a Rottweiler, run loose, and he attacked my 14 year old dog, whose response was to bite him on the face at full power. He couldn't fight anymore, but his crazy bite power still remained. The Rottie looked stunned after he got bit, shook his head like, "Wow!", and about then the kid and his buddy "Jason" came running out the door. I yelled, "Come and get your dog!", and they came over and took him away, dripping blood pretty badly. When the kid's dad came home, I went over there and talked to him about what had happened. He said that it was his kid's fault, so he would pay to get the stitches his dog needed. My dog was just bruised up, his super thick hair kept him from having any real bite injury. I thought it was all settled, but a couple days later, he comes running up and punches me in the shoulder. I was about 50 pounds heavier than he was and we got into it. He was losing, and pulled a knife on me, and I pulled what I was carrying, an S&W 3913. He took off, and later on, his dad called me and I told him his kid came close to being shot. Years later, the kid did get straightened out and his a grandfather now. He came very close to not being a dad at all.