Life in a small town.
One of our officers told me that a certain cowboy came by the PD the day before yesterday.
"Hey, am I going to get in trouble if I put down a stray dog?" he asked.
Our officer described the stray that's been all over town, and asked if that was the one. The cowboy said that it was. Our officer said that he was glad the dog had been put down, and asked where it was.
"In the bed of the truck," said the Stetson-wearing citizen.
Our officer stepped out and took a look: 4 or 5 pellets of buckshot had passed through the neck. The citizen had seen it in his front yard, and shot down from the porch at the cur, using the turf as a backstop.
"That big officer had told me I could shoot it if I had a safe shot," he said.
I did, too. He had a daughter, and I know a good ol' country boy when I see one.
posted by Matt G @ 9:36 AM
5 Comments:
Good 'ole boys know when they can and cannot shoot. Glad the menace is out of the picture....
Outstanding. Wish I'd read these happy tidings just 15 minutes ago, before I post my own most recent.
Good going. You DO realize you own the cowpoke a big cuppa coffee?
Adult supervision. Well done. It makes me cuss that, in the words of an old horse training mentor, "all this crap is man made."
Basically, as JPG alluded to at his place, Dogs are domestic animals. Someone is responsible for this dog going feral and becoming a threat to anything it came across.
In an ideal world, that person would be dealt with. Putting the feral dog down had to be done.
Here's to the forlorn hope - look that term up - that this is the first and last transgression by said Dorkus Maximus!
Best thing for it, poor dog. Best thing for everyone.
I love stories with happy endings.
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