I hate the neighborhood kids

So the other day, the wife, dog and I are enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon in the Batcave. It was a nice day, so I left the door open for the dog to run out in the yard while I watched football. Everything was fine for a few minutes, until I heard it.
The sound of the local hellspawns.
These three kids, we'll call them Huey, Dewey and Lisa (one is a girl) -- all around 7 or 8 years old -- appear out of nowhere every time we let the dog out. Every. Fucking. Time. I swear they have a damn alarm in their house, like they do at the fire station.
Dog starts doing her poo-poo shuffle, there's the kids -- and the shuffle is interupted. Dog needs her quiet time to shit.
Leave the door open so she can go out, there's the kids. Always screaming, "It's Holly!"
Never mind that the dog's name is "Ollie".
This weekend, I corrected one of the kids on the name, leading to this exchange:
Huey: Holly's here!
Me: Actually, her name is "Ollie".
Huey: Molly?
Dewey: No, it's Holly.
Me: No, Ollie.
Huey: Polly?

And, of course, the dog gets excited when the kids are out there. Maybe even agitated, since they insist on putting their hand over the damn fence when she's barking and snarling at them. I think the dog just wants to play -- one of her favorite pasttimes seems to be running along the fence (it's a short picket fence, but also a small dog) while these kids run back and forth with her. It's cute, to a point.
That point was reached over the last couple weeks.
Huey and Lisa are nice enough. They seem to have some sense and back off when Ollie starts getting riled. But Dewey is a real dipshit. I hate Dewey. Couple weeks ago I was grilling in the yard and this little asshole comes over by the fence and says, "You better give me something to eat!"
I tell him, politely, to fuck off.
This week, I was grilling again and he and Huey are summoned by the activity in the yard. The alarm and red lights must have gone off in the house. Ollie runs out and starts her usual barking and snarling. Huey is by the fence, just kind of standing there. Dewey, meanwhile, goes to the gate and tells his podnuh, "Stay there! Keep her there so I can go in." And he starts fiddling with the latch on the gate. All the while, I'm staring right at him. He finally sees me and then remembers to ask, "Mister, can I come in?"
Again, I not-so-politely tell him fuck no.
So now it's becoming worrisome. I'm afraid this little shithead is going to come in the yard one day when I'm not paying attention, or stick his hand over the fence -- another of Dewey's favorite hobbies -- and get bitten. Our dog is very territorial, and it wouldn't surprise me if she defended her turf like that. Or this little prick is going to start throwing rocks at her. He seems like a future serial killer. I wouldn't put it past him.
The wife and I are almost afraid to leave the house when these kids are out there, because the dog always follows us out. If she doesn't, the first thing the kids ask is "Where's Holly?" It's like trying to avoid someone, only you can't because they live next door and appear from the bowels of hell every time you step outside. It's annoying.
Is it wrong to hate a 7-year-old? Is it wrong to shoot them if they come in the yard?

 

Upper deck him.

 

wrong to hate a 7-year-old? pretty much. wrong to shoot him? not at all.

 

Why not talk to the kid's parents?

 

HEY, YOU BRATS! GET OFF MY DAMN LAWN!

 

Talk to the parents about the sticking their hands over the fence, and put a better lock on your gate. Like a key or a combination.

You think it's irritating now, wait until a kid gets hurt. And you will be liable, even if they provoke it, so take it seriously.

Seven-year-olds don't listen to reason. Some don't even comprehend it. If you want to reason, do it with the parents. The kids, give them rules. If you don't want them on your property (or whatever limitations you set), tell them - and tell the parents too.

Don't sweat them calling the dog the wrong name, though. It's annoying, but the OlliePollyHolly doesn't care. The dog's just glad to have some fun.

 

Have you tried talking to the parents of the little hellions?

If the parents don't do shit, then perhaps Dewey getting bitten will teach him a lesson no amount of lectures possibly could.

 

He'll never forget an upper decking...

 

Oustanding.

 

I'm in a similar situation (well, sort of - we don't have a fence and won't let our dog anywhere near the kids). Our house is on the corner of the major intersection in our subdivision and we get fairly heavy foot traffic through there. The neighborhood kids often cut through our yard on their bikes when switching streets. That part doesn't bother me so much except that it drives our dog crazy, but whatever.

We've also got a tree on our property that is of prime climbing size for kids that age (which I'm putting at around eight). I didn't care for a while when they climbed up on it, but my wife and I started wondering who was liable if a kid falls off and breaks his/her arm. Then a couple of smaller branches got broken off and we decided that was enough, so I tell the kids every time I see them on the tree that we don't want them on it. I've seen some on there a couple of times, but I don't get angry with them - you've got to let it sink in a little for them.

Fast-forward to this past Sunday night. Trash pickup is Monday morning, so we've got our cans out at the street. I go to take the dog out and one of our trash cans is 20 feet from where it was, knocked over. Contents strewn out in the yard. Now, it took about a minute to clean up, but it really pissed me off. A lot. I have no proof that it was these kids, and I don't even know their names or where they live or who their parents are. But the fact that somebody did this to me really pisses me off, and these kids are around all the time.

So I guess the question is, who do I upper-deck?

EDIT: Why does the "8" I typed keep turning into a smiley face? Is that number verboten like the c-word?

 

Problem is, I don't know where these kids live. The little girl lives next door, and her mother does a good job of reining her in when she's around there. Maybe the times I've been out there and held the dog so the little girl could "pet my puppy" has the mother creeped out.
The boys, though, all I know is they live down the street somewhere. And I'm more afraid that Dewey is going to do something to our dog. As territorial as the dog is, she probably wouldn't bite him unless he tried to pick her up or got real close to her. But if he did, and she did bite or snap, he seems like the type that would kick the dog or throw a rock at her.

 

That's why the batcave's location is supposed to remain secret. Don't you have some kind of gadget to keep looky-loos away?

And every time you mentioned Dewey, I thought of him: