We've had some weird neighbors growing up. The worst ones would have to be the teens (17–19) that stole our dog.

These were proper misfits. Little white boys in a gang that thought they were tough as nails. These little shits did it all. But the thing that crossed the line, (at least in my father's eyes) was when they stole our old golden retriever. They had jumped the fence, and carried her up their driveway and into the house. Now us kids were well.. kids, 10–8 and 2. We were peeking out, we didn't see what happened and knew only that Daisy was missing and we couldn't find her. The lady next door was the one to fill us in, soon as she seen it happen she came over for a cuppa and told our parents. Most people were frightened of this house. They were trouble, but our father well.. Something snapped. He put up with them for a while, he usually tries to distance himself from neighbors. His motto was be friendly but nothing more. Soon as he heard what happened, he quietly put down his coffee, walked up the driveway and knocked on the door.

(Now this recollection of events is from a 10 year-old’s memory looking out the window, and his words years later. Some parts may be romanticised, some may be missing. But it's all I got to offer)

The oldest of the group answered the door, and trying to be tough for the others asked “what the f#*k do you want”. My dad calmly said he was there for his dog. Give her to him. Again the response was more cool man gibberish. And after that he kicked in the door. Now these tough guys apparently Shat, they didn't expect anyone from this quiet neighborhood to actually do anything against them, after all they were in a gang, ya know. They stood back and watched...