We had a dad on the street when I was a kid that did something that scared me to death. We lived in a part of the community where they put families of mixed race, but this one family was extremely Anglo (the boys had white hair and blue eyes). Always loved to spend time at their house because they were the classic American family. They played outdoor sports with their parents in ways that few on the street would do. And then one day I was over when the dad took the dog, Snoopy, to the vet. He was put in the front seat like that one. In fact, Snoopy looked just like that dog, except he was all white. Well, Mr. W drove out of the carport and in less than two minutes, we saw his car speed back. He drove up to the house and jumped out of the car, slammed the door shut and went to the passenger side and grabbed Snoopy by the neck and shoved the dog's nose into a pile of doo that the dog had left on the front seat, and beat the crap out of the dog. I remember that he was hitting hard enough to leave bruises on a man.
I ran home after that. Funny how we grew up back then. I never told anyone about it. There was just some things you didn't talk about, because it would only make things worse. Maybe I got my indoctrination to right-wing families a lot earlier than I realized.
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