I have an outside dog who roams around. He's one of the laziest, sweetest dogs you'll ever see though, and I've yet to hear a single complaint from any of the neighbors, all of whom feed him scraps.
But my neighbor a few years back had two labs that ran wild, who were meaner than a toothless snake, so the next time they got in my yard and started stealing stuff off the porch and tearing it up(in my yard, no less), one ended up with four .243 rounds in it's side, and the other one never came back.
This is my trike. There are many like it but this one is mine. My trike is my best friend, and it is my life. I must master it as I must master myself. My trike without me is useless. Without my trike, I am useless. I must ride my trike true. My trike and I know that what counts is not the amount of miles we ride, but the time we ride together. My trike is human in it's own ways, therefore I will learn it as my brother. I will learn it's weaknesses, it's strengths, it's parts, and it's soul.