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he would and did kill anything

The bus stop wasn't even a mile from my house, but of course I wanted to walk to it alone when I was 6-years-old. My dad wasn't really feeling that option, but, God bless him, he let me on my way. We were living in Massachusetts, our first place outside of New York, and it was a big deal to be in the suburbs. Still, old suspicions die hard and my dad tailed me as I made my way to the meeting point. The dog was a neighborhood terror, but no one ever suspected it would break from its chain. When it did, my dad was on top of it, all I remember was an elbow going up and down and a big hairy dog spit getting all over my winter clothes. That was something, both that a dog jumped me and that my dad was there for it, and how he responded. But that's not really my moment. My moment happened later. When my family tired of Massachusetts and moved on to Maryland. My moment was just before we left, when my dad and his friend from the office came back for that dog and, in the middle of the night, put poison in a dish of that neighbor's front yard. I think about that a lot, or more like, I see the impact of that when I tell it to people I know where I live now, in Canada. I'm proud of that moment and I'm glad my father did that for me. I'm his oldest child and he's a fierce defender and, even if his tactics include murder, think about what that means: he would and did kill anything that tried to hurt me. I'm not sure if I could rally that same kind of violence, but I'd like to think, as my wife keeps talking about having a child, that I could.


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