BAD DOG

Back when I was in 7th and 8th grade living in Simsbury, Connecticut I had a paper route delivering the afternoon edition of ( then called ) The Hartford Times. Each day after school and weekends I would load up my bike rack with the papers and ride from house to house on the route parking my bike and walking up to the door of each house to drop off the paper.

I didn't have too much of a problem with dogs, except for one dog on Deepwood road name "Mickey". Mickey was an older beagle mix mutt who would approach me with teeth barred, barking and howling, and trying to lunge at me to bite me in the leg. The owners would call to Mickey and try to get the dog to stop with his antics so I could deliver the paper and not sue them for multiple dog bites.

Apparently, Mickey's owners used to discipline Mickey by boxing his ears and head with a rolled up newspaper. So, in Mickey's eyes I was an accomplice to the punishment he received as I supplied the weapon of his punishment.

Sorry Mickey, but don't blame me, I was just doing my job.