Baron Was A Thief

When I was little, still in elementary school, the neighbors across the street adopted a dog they named Baron. I think it was after the song Bloody Red Baron that was about Snoopy of Peanuts' fame taking on a WWI flying ace. It was incredibly popular on the radio.

Baron was a pretty good size, maybe as tall as a Labrador Retriever but thicker, with long wavy hair, and he was mostly black with a white chest that had black speckles in it. He wasn't mean but he wasn't friendly. You didn't need to be afraid of Baron but he never came close enough for you to pet him either. This was back in the day when everyone on the street had a dog, there were no leash laws, and everyone happily co-existed. The kids all played games out in the street and all their dogs accompanied them. A giant mix of people, animals, and activities.

But Baron was wild at heart. In the three summer months he managed to call our friendly enclave home, he chewed through many a neighbor's items and even shredded an outdoor free-standing screen porch. There was no calling the police or suing. America was more civil then. The dog owners simply made good on replacing the items and that was that.

Besides being destructive, Baron was also a thief. He stole a bra off a clothesline that was later found on their front steps. Our family was the victim of a milk-napping. We had a milk box with a lid, silver metal stamped with a texture, on the front stoop where the milkman would leave deliveries twice a week. This turned out to be a great target for the mischievous mutt, who flipped the top open and proceeded to chew the top off of one half gallon and absconded with the other. The empty container was also found on their front porch.

One day he was gone and no one ever talked about him again.