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  • When I was eight years old, our family lived in a Memphis Tennessee suburb. The next door neighbor kid would invite me over to visit. They had a very big, mean dog who always barked at us when we went into the fenced backyard. We would scream and run to his doghouse, scrambling up the pitched roof to the top out of his reach. He would jump at us and bark, we would taunt him and giggle. When he got bored and walked away, we would climb down and do it all over again. It was thrilling, it was dangerous, and it was fun.

    Today all the dog houses are rounded and made out of plastic. I often wonder what kids do to get away from the barking dog.
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