{"id":48785,"date":"2026-04-22T16:47:07","date_gmt":"2026-04-22T16:47:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785"},"modified":"2026-04-22T16:47:07","modified_gmt":"2026-04-22T16:47:07","slug":"the-dog-screamed-before-i-saw-who-kicked-him","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785","title":{"rendered":"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him."},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
That sound cut through the park like a blade.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
My name is Riley Carter. I\u2019m a Navy SEAL, though on paper I was supposed to be on leave, off-duty, invisible for once. I was halfway through a morning run along the park trail in Charleston when I heard shouting, then laughter, then the sharp cry of an animal in pain. I turned the corner and found three teenage boys in expensive clothes surrounding a woman in a wheelchair near the fountain.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
One of them had just driven the toe of his designer sneaker into the ribs of a golden service dog lying between her wheels.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The woman grabbed for the leash. \u201cStop it! Leave him alone!\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The tallest boy\u2014clean haircut, private-school smile, the kind of arrogance money grows like mold\u2014leaned down until his face was inches from hers. \u201cMaybe control your mutt, sweetheart.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The dog, wearing a blue service vest, tried to rise and nearly collapsed.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
That was enough.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
I crossed the grass fast. \u201cBack away from her.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
All three boys turned. The tallest looked me over\u2014running shoes, black tank, ponytail, nothing about me screaming special operations unless you knew what to see. He smirked.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u201cAnd who are you?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u201cThe person telling you to move.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
He laughed. His two friends joined in, loud and stupid and absolutely certain the world would keep protecting them. The woman in the wheelchair looked at me with that awful mix of hope and fear people get when they\u2019ve already been failed by too many strangers.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The tall boy nudged the dog again with his foot.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
I was on him before his grin finished fading.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
I twisted his wrist, drove him face-first onto the concrete edge of the fountain, and used the momentum of the second kid rushing me to send him flat onto his back in the grass. The third got one wild swing before I trapped his arm, spun him, and put him on his knees hard enough to knock the breath out of him.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The whole thing took maybe five seconds.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
People stopped. Phones came out. Somebody gasped.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
The tall one spat water and blood and glared up at me like he couldn\u2019t believe his own life had just disobeyed him. \u201cDo you know who my father is?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
I looked at the woman, then at the dog trying to breathe through pain.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cBut I\u2019m guessing that\u2019s the only reason you\u2019re still talking.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Then the woman in the wheelchair grabbed my arm with shaking fingers and whispered something that changed everything:<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u201cThey know where I live.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Riley thought she\u2019d stopped a public attack. She had no idea it was only the beginning\u2014and the boys she humiliated weren\u2019t used to losing in front of witnesses. The rest of the story is below \ud83d\udc47<\/span><\/div>\n
\n

PART 2<\/h1>\n

I let the boys go only after I had all three of them on video, their faces clear, their threats louder than they probably realized. A retired couple had called 911. Two joggers stayed as witnesses. The blond one\u2014Grayson Whitlock, according to the name he kept throwing around like a weapon\u2014straightened his jacket, wiped a streak of blood from his lip, and smiled at Olivia the way snakes probably smile before they bite.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t over,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Olivia flinched.<\/p>\n

That told me more than his threat did.<\/p>\n

I knelt beside Duke first. His breathing was shallow, but steady. No obvious bleeding, thank God. Olivia\u2019s hands shook so badly she couldn\u2019t clip the leash back on by herself. Up close, she looked younger than I\u2019d first thought\u2014late twenties maybe, dark hair pulled back, paint smudged on one sleeve, and that exhausted alertness people get when fear has become part of the daily routine.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Riley,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOlivia Harper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know them?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her silence lasted too long.<\/p>\n

By the time animal control and patrol units arrived, Grayson and his friends had switched masks. Respectful. Offended. Full of rehearsed innocence. They claimed Duke had snapped first. Claimed Olivia had become hysterical. Claimed I \u201coverreacted\u201d and assaulted minors. One of them even produced a lawyer\u2019s business card within ten minutes, which told me this wasn\u2019t their first time being rescued by adult money.<\/p>\n

But Olivia surprised me. She didn\u2019t back down. Not completely. She gave her statement, voice trembling but clear enough to matter. She said Grayson had harassed her before. Said one of the boys had been outside her art studio the previous night. Said she had heard someone try the back door after midnight.<\/p>\n

The officers exchanged that look cops get when they\u2019re deciding whether a story sounds inconvenient or important.<\/p>\n

Then Grayson\u2019s father arrived.<\/p>\n

Not later. Not after a phone call and a delay.<\/p>\n

Immediately.<\/p>\n

Richard Whitlock stepped out of a black SUV wearing a navy suit and the kind of cold wealth that makes public servants suddenly overexplain themselves. He didn\u2019t look at the dog. Didn\u2019t look at Olivia. Barely looked at me. He went straight to his son, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked only one question:<\/p>\n

\u201cDid anyone record this?\u201d<\/p>\n

That was the moment I knew exactly what kind of family this was.<\/p>\n

Olivia\u2019s face drained of color. She leaned closer to me and whispered, \u201cHe owns the building my studio is in.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was the twist.<\/p>\n

This wasn\u2019t just random cruelty from rich kids in a park. This was pressure. Ongoing. Targeted. And now it had a financial leash attached to it.<\/p>\n

I drove Olivia and Duke to an emergency vet myself after giving my statement. Duke had bruised ribs and soft tissue damage, but no internal bleeding. Lucky. Olivia didn\u2019t look lucky. She sat in the waiting room with both hands around a paper cup she never drank from, staring at the tile like it might open under her if she blinked.<\/p>\n

Finally she said, \u201cThey want me gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom the studio?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cI paint disability portraits. Real bodies. Real injuries. Veterans, amputees, people with scars. Richard Whitlock has been trying to buy the building and turn it into luxury retail. I refused to sell my lease. Then Grayson started showing up with his friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

I felt something hot and steady settle in my chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you call sooner?\u201d<\/p>\n

She gave a humorless little laugh. \u201cAnd say what? That rich boys with famous last names keep bumping my chair, scaring my dog, and making me feel unsafe in ways that don\u2019t leave obvious bruises?\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t have a good answer.<\/p>\n

That night I drove her home, then followed her to the studio and checked every entrance myself. The back door had fresh pry marks. Inside, canvases had been shifted. One large portrait had a slash through the corner. Someone had wanted her to know they could get close.<\/p>\n

I should have stayed.<\/p>\n

Instead, I promised I\u2019d come back in the morning.<\/p>\n

At 2:13 a.m., my phone rang.<\/p>\n

Olivia was crying too hard to form words.<\/p>\n

Then I heard a male voice in the background say, \u201cTell your Navy girlfriend she can\u2019t be here every night.\u201d<\/p>\n

And the line went dead.<\/p>\n

\n

PART 3<\/h1>\n

I was already in my truck before the call fully disconnected.<\/p>\n

The studio sat in a converted brick warehouse near the river, quiet at night except for the distant freight horns and the hum of old streetlights. I broke two traffic laws getting there and would\u2019ve broken ten more if they\u2019d existed. When I turned onto the block, the front lights of the building were off.<\/p>\n

The back loading door was open.<\/p>\n

That hit me harder than fear. Fear sharpens you. Rage makes you stupid. I needed sharp.<\/p>\n

I parked dark, cut the engine, and came in from the alley. The service entrance Olivia used with her chair was half-jammed, the latch splintered. Inside, the studio smelled like turpentine, dust, and something metallic. Blood, maybe. My hand found the knife clipped inside my waistband out of habit, then left it alone. I wanted clean hands when this ended. Or as clean as possible.<\/p>\n

I heard a muffled bark.<\/p>\n

Duke.<\/p>\n

Then a man\u2019s voice. Laughing.<\/p>\n

I moved through the dark past giant canvases and drop cloths, using the rows of worktables like cover. Someone had smashed spotlights. Glass crunched under slow, careless footsteps. Three voices. Teen boys. Confident. Certain nobody had ever truly punished them before.<\/p>\n

Then I saw Olivia.<\/p>\n

She was near the center platform where she usually painted, her wheelchair angled sideways, one arm zip-tied to the frame. Duke lay beside her, alive but groaning, trying to crawl toward her with one front leg dragging. Grayson stood over a half-finished portrait with a box cutter in his hand, carving through the canvas just to hear it tear.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeautiful place,\u201d he said. \u201cShame if it stopped existing.\u201d<\/p>\n

One of his friends had a phone out, recording again.<\/p>\n

That turned my anger cold.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t rush them.<\/p>\n

I hit the breaker panel first.<\/p>\n

Emergency backup lights snapped on\u2014red, low, enough to distort the room and kill their depth perception. At the same second, the side door slammed shut electronically behind them. Then the recording started playing through the overhead speakers.<\/p>\n

Their own voices from the park.<\/p>\n

Their threats.<\/p>\n

Their laughter.<\/p>\n

Grayson froze. \u201cWhat the hell\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

I stepped out from behind the canvases. \u201cYou boys really need to stop documenting your felonies.\u201d<\/p>\n

He spun toward me, shocked for half a heartbeat, then furious. \u201cYou set this up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot hard. Entitled people love patterns.\u201d<\/p>\n

That part was true. After the park, I had gone back to the studio before midnight and added motion alarms, interior cameras, and one old trick from deployment\u2014control the exits, control the pace, control the fear.<\/p>\n

One of his friends charged me with the box cutter.<\/p>\n

He never got close.<\/p>\n

I kicked his wrist, trapped the arm, and drove him into a steel worktable hard enough to empty his lungs. The second boy grabbed a metal stool and swung wild. I ducked, shoved the stool back into him, and he folded over it with a scream. Grayson made the mistake rich bullies always make when panic hits: he reached for Olivia.<\/p>\n

Duke got there first.<\/p>\n

Injured or not, that dog launched himself at Grayson\u2019s leg with a savage bark and enough force to take him off balance. Grayson crashed against the easel. I crossed the distance and slammed him face-first onto the paint-splattered floor.<\/p>\n

He fought dirtier than his friends. Clawing. Elbowing. Spitting. He got one lucky shot into my ribs that hurt more than I let show. Then he hissed in my ear, \u201cMy father owns this city.\u201d<\/p>\n

I bent his wrist until his voice broke into a cry. \u201cTonight he can own your bail.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sirens rose outside.<\/p>\n

Because while they were busy terrorizing Olivia, the silent alarm I\u2019d tied into the back entry had already called police\u2014and uploaded the live feed to three places Grayson\u2019s father couldn\u2019t erase fast enough.<\/p>\n

That was the real twist.<\/p>\n

Richard Whitlock arrived again, suit jacket over pajama shirt this time, with a private attorney and all the confidence in the world\u2014until one of the officers told him the entire break-in, assault, animal abuse, and destruction of property had been livestreamed to the police server and copied to a local reporter I knew from base charity events.<\/p>\n

I watched the exact second he realized money was no longer faster than evidence.<\/p>\n

Olivia was cut free. Duke was rushed back to the emergency vet and came home three days later with stitches, pain meds, and a heroic level of attitude. Grayson and both of his friends were charged. Richard Whitlock tried for weeks to bury it, spin it, intimidate witnesses, and discredit me. Didn\u2019t work. Too many cameras. Too many statements. Too much public anger once the story broke.<\/p>\n

As for Olivia, she did the bravest thing of all: she stayed.<\/p>\n

She reopened the studio under brighter lights and stronger locks. The first new painting she finished after the attack was of Duke\u2014not as a victim, but as a guardian, chest forward, eyes bright, one scar visible through golden fur. She hung it by the entrance where everyone could see.<\/p>\n

A month later, we stood together at the opening of her new exhibit. She rolled her chair beside me, Duke calm at her feet, and said, \u201cYou know, you didn\u2019t save me because you\u2019re a SEAL.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo?\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled. \u201cYou saved me because you stopped when other people would\u2019ve kept walking.\u201d<\/p>\n

That one landed deeper than any medal ever did.<\/p>\n

Because maybe that\u2019s the real line between courage and convenience. Not training. Not rank. Just whether you decide somebody else\u2019s pain is your problem yet.<\/p>\n

And if you saw what Riley saw that day in the park\u2014would you step in, or keep walking like nothing happened?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. \u00a0 That sound cut through the park like a blade. \u00a0 My name is Riley Carter. I\u2019m a Navy SEAL, though on paper I was supposed to be on leave, off-duty, invisible for once. I was halfway through a morning run along the park trail in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":48786,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-48785","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-purpose"],"yoast_head":"\nThe dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. - Purposeful Days<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. - Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. \u00a0 That sound cut through the park like a blade. \u00a0 My name is Riley Carter. I\u2019m a Navy SEAL, though on paper I was supposed to be on leave, off-duty, invisible for once. I was halfway through a morning run along the park trail in […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-04-22T16:47:07+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"960\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"960\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Living Living\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Living Living\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"10 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785\",\"name\":\"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. - Purposeful Days\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-04-22T16:47:07+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg\",\"width\":960,\"height\":960},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him.\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\",\"name\":\"Purposeful Days\",\"description\":\"\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9\",\"name\":\"Living Living\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Living Living\"},\"sameAs\":[\"http:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\"],\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=6\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. - Purposeful Days","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. - Purposeful Days","og_description":"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. \u00a0 That sound cut through the park like a blade. \u00a0 My name is Riley Carter. I\u2019m a Navy SEAL, though on paper I was supposed to be on leave, off-duty, invisible for once. I was halfway through a morning run along the park trail in […]","og_url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785","og_site_name":"Purposeful Days","article_published_time":"2026-04-22T16:47:07+00:00","og_image":[{"width":960,"height":960,"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Living Living","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Living Living","Est. reading time":"10 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785","name":"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him. - Purposeful Days","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg","datePublished":"2026-04-22T16:47:07+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image_2026-04-22_234623209.jpg","width":960,"height":960},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=48785#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"The dog screamed before I saw who kicked him."}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/","name":"Purposeful Days","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9","name":"Living Living","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Living Living"},"sameAs":["http:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org"],"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=6"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/48785","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=48785"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/48785\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":48788,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/48785\/revisions\/48788"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/48786"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=48785"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=48785"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=48785"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}