Horrible little bastard kids
I never was one of those kids that tortured animals for kicks. The closest I ever got was kicking over ant hills. Like Calvin I used to enjoy watching them scurry for cover after my foot of destruction swept through. More fascinating was the fact they would have the entrance repaired in just a matter of minutes when I went back to check on my work. I don't count fishing as animal torture. It's their own fault for biting the hook. I mean, how often do you see food hovering before you face?
Horrible things I have witnessed other children do to animals
1) At daycamp a few boys spent an afternoon burning a big ole grasshopper with a magnifying glass. I can still picture it's tortured brown body held in a boy's hand. It's legs were still twitching and they were as proud of their creation as some rural artist is of a rusty garbage sculpture.
2) Again a few boys spent about an hour trying to stick a single firecrackers up the rear end of a garter snake. They were not successful and no one lost a finger and the snake eventually got away.
I can't think of anymore. Initially I thought there would be more. I can't think of anymore. Maybe I hung out with the right people.
The time I was the a horrible bastard teenager
One afternoon my friend Alan and I were cruising around in my orange Volkswagen Beetle and Alan noticed that the floor of my car was covered with debris. It always was and Alan usually spent the time I spent putting gas in my car emptying the garbage into the trash cans at the pumps so he could have a clear place to put his feet. This afternoon we were cruising down the road I live on and the level of shit on the floor of the passenger side of my car was especially high. Alan started bitching about the garbage and I said "Quit complaining. If you don't like it, dump the shit out." I stopped the car about half a mile from an intersection. He then proceded to dump all the garbage from my car onto the road. Once our littering ended we drove off. As were nearing the intersection a car coming toward us slowed and flagged us down. I stopped and in the car was a middle-aged Polish guy whose wife used to babysit me and my sister. He tore into us.
"What the fuck do you two think you are doing? Get you asses back there and pick that shit up. I don't need you little fucking bastards littering in front of my home."
He was furious and scared the shit out of us. I think I squeaked out a "Yes, sir." We turned around and picked up all the garbage. I remember we felt like shit when we realized what we had done. It was irresponsible and we knew it. That wasn't the kind of people we wanted to be. I never did like that guy that yelled at us but I have always been thankful to us that he cared enough about the beauty of Northern Michigan enough to scream at a couple of punks.