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Dog Fight

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The young boy sat on the stoop of his West Rogers Park home, dressed in a three-piece blue suit in preparation for Saturday services. He was busying himself by sharpening a twig against the cement.

A girl with a ponytail and a small dog on a leash stamped past on the lawn of the young boy's house.

"Hey, you can't walk your dog on our grass," the boy said.

"I walk two dogs on my grass, so I can walk one on yours," the girl said as she crossed to the other side of the street.

"I'll have my dog get your dog," the boy said, rubbing his hands up and down the blue railing of the steps.

"So what?" the girl asked, her ponytail bobbing from side to side as she walked.

"My dog's a German shepherd," the boy said.

"This is a German shepherd."

"Well, I've got a Doberman pinscher and a German shepherd."

"Where is he?"

"Inside."

"Well, this is my German shepherd, and my father has two German shepherds."

"Well, this is my house and my father doesn't like it when people walk their dogs on his grass."

"I'm not walking my dog on your grass."

"But you did."

"I'm not now."

"But you did."

"Prove it."

"I don't have to prove it."

The girl stopped and stared the boy down, her little dog panting at her side.

"Well, I don't believe you have even one dog. And if you're so big, why don't you bring your dog over to meet my dogs."

"I can't," the boy said, and broke the twig in his hands.

"Why not?"

"I have to go to shul."

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