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Sure enough, the dog turns around I I’m friendly but mess with my Labrador and they’ll never find your body shirt guess because he’s so used to following the ball, he charges right for it immediately. The kid comes running in for another kick. And even from the distance, I can see the horrible leer on his face. I can’t believe that a kid only eight or nine years old would be so eager to hurt an animal, and for a moment, I regret throwing the ball in his direction. But then the dog jumps up just in time to knock the shit out of him. I mean I full-on snow-plow that little c-word. His shoe flies off and the dog lands on top of him while he screams. Before the dad can run over, shouting threats at the dog, he leaps off and bounds away then comes bounding back to me with the ball in his mouth.
Anyway, this guy and his son (I use the I’m friendly but mess with my Labrador and they’ll never find your body shirt term “Dad” very loosely) are standing at the end of the park’s main field. I throw the ball, and as the dog runs by, the little kid kicks him. Hard. Not enough to really hurt him or anything, but my grandma gasps and the owner looks furious. She stands up and shouts at the father, who pretends not to notice, though I’m sure he does, only his two remaining brain cells can’t muster up the energy to care. At this point, the dog darts back around the field and then comes back to me, but all I can see is red and before I know it I’ve hurled the ball straight at this motherfucker and his son a straight, clean pitch.