Dispatch from Maine I: Ask Permission

This weekend I had a jolly time in Vacationland. I did so much that I’ll be splitting my posts about the trip. This first post is about an event that happened one hour after I arrived at Augusta Bro’s home.

Brother received a phone call from a next door neighbor. The conversation went like this:

“I just saw three kids jump your fence. They’re in your backyard.”

“Good. I’ll release the dogs.” (BTW: The dogs are all bark and no bite.)

“No. Don’t do that. They’re young. Like 8.”

“I want to scare them.”

Brother heads to the sizable backyard which is enclosed by a metal linked fence meant to keep the dogs from running all over the neighborhood. Brother spots the trespassers. They are about 8 years old (two boys, one girl) and have chosen the highest point in the whole yard to escape. The boys have made it over but the girl is still climbing.

At this point the “vicious” dogs have are barking at the girl and she is frozen at the top of the fence (which is chest high for you and me). Acting tough, brother says,

“You know you’re not supposed to be here. The fence is to protect you from the dogs.”

“I know that now….Can you help me?”

At that moment Brother realizes that the girl (who needs to climb more fences in her life, if you know what I mean) doesn’t have the strength to pull herself over. Her two buddies are standing in the middle of the street.

Just watching.

Not doing a bloody thing.

Brother is able to move her carcass over the fence and the three delinquents return to their journey. Lesson learned.


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