On a sunny afternoon last week, I got yelled at.
I mean it.
I got curses and threats screamed at me.
What did I do to deserve such treatment?
I was getting a ball.
I was retrieving a ball that had bounced off of the street and onto a yard.
And it wasn’t even all the way up in the yard of the person yelling.
It was on the little strip of grass, the one that is just above the curb before the sidewalk.
But, seriously, that didn’t stop the homeowner from letting me have it.
The tirade against me ended with, “I am going to call the police about you!”
Thankfully, I was not arrested.
But you never know.