shoot my dog

Walking into the basement of Steven's house was always fun. He had this awesome family and they had everything. That day though he opened the door to the garage. It was winter and cold, the night had already settled in so all the lights were on.

"I want you to see this Jake" he told me in a whisper. He was excited and I did not know what to expect. Then I saw it! A brand new car! It was so cool. 

"What kind is it?" I asked, never one to be overly interested in cars. 

"It's a Chrysler!" He said happily. He had to be eight and I was nine or ten at the time.

A new car would have been a big deal I guess, I had never really thought about it. We weren't getting anything like that at my house, but I did't feel separate from him. He just had a different lifestyle than we did.

"Kubasaw!" his dad would yell at me, My name "Kuba" short for Jake in Polish sounded like that to him. Bob was a rich guy I guess in hindsight, he was a union controller or something. He did important things.

"Kubasa" he shouted, "see that shit on my lawn?" he asked kind of in a joking way. 

I could see the crap in the snowy grassy knoll out front, "No" I'd say "I don't"

Then he'd say "I think it's your dog's."

I'd then say " No, I don't think so."

"I think it is" he'd respond.  "you need to keep a closer eye on that dog, you can't just keep letting him out at night." 

He was probably right, but "it's my dad that let's him out at night" I'd tell him. 

"Just keep a closer eye on him, you never know something might just happen to him."