:D
Posted on 12/29/2011 8:27:34 PM PST by bamahead
You ARE right, but you will end up dead. And after shooting you, they will assault the house & kill every living thing.
See Waco for reference on their tactics.
Life’s funny.
If you’ve already experienced something, it loses its power to intimidate you.
Without [again] telling the whole sordid back story here, I’ll just stick to the punchline.
Suffice to say that in 1982, I threw myself on top of my Dobermann, knocking him to the floor where I covered him with my own body in order to keep a Norfolk VA SWAT thug from plugging him.
I was 20 then and had my whole life ahead of me and lot to live for.
30 years later, I’ve got less of both so doing it -again- wouldn’t even require a nanosecond’s thought.
There’s them that’ll complain and them that’ll do.
Pick a side.
Lived here for 10 years with no fence and 6 dogs.
The fence came after hubby built a machine shop out back.
It’s not nice to have somebody’s Harley stolen because you’ve not secured your property/business responsibly.
[it was a happy bonus for the dogs, though]
With the infiltration of liberals seeking “the country life”, dogs roaming free became little more than nostalgia.
[Heaven forfend your dog might pee on their $1000 artfully deformed evergreen topiaries]
My childhood was as you described but “things changed”, thanks to the state laws and liberal intrusions.
As a wonderful bonus, the DNR “returned” all the dangerous damn wildlife my ancestors had wisely exterminated.
I’m not sure if you’re trying to be a clever smart ass about the fence but FYI, we have 3 catfish/bass/bluegill/sunny ponds.
In 50 years, I’ve never heard of anybody shooting somebody else’s dog.
It’s just *not* done.
I do know of an instance where a guy kicked another guy’s Beagle pup in the stomach and it died from internal injuries.
[use your imagination for what happened next]
“Your posts also remind me of hubby’s grandma. Her dogs also roamed their property freely. None were ever shot, and if they had been, Grandma would have found a way to put a bullet through the perp. (not that I know of her ever shooting anyone, but no one crossed her.)”
A woman after my own heart.
“She was from Appalachia though she lived most of her adult life elsewhere.”
Got 300 years worth of kin here, was born here, will die here...possibly sooner and bloodier than I’d prefer.
So be it.
:)
I admit to being a little bit of a smarty pants about the fence because I can’t think of any of our rural relatives who have fences in their yards. I don’t know how they manage to keep their animals on their own property without electronic fencing, but they do. Maybe it’s because they built their houses so far from the road. The dogs just don’t go anywhere without their master(s).
God bless you for protecting an innocent member of the family.
I’ve had in my mind a long time that my only way to protect our beloved dog in this situation is to do the same thing you did. I hope I have the courage to do it, if ever necessary.
I misinterpreted your previous post, & for that I am sorry.
Animal abusers will burn in Hell, no matter their faith.
Ibizan Hounds did it for me.
The Dobermanns always knew where the line was but “primitive breed” Ibizans know nothing but “RUN! HUNT! KILL!” and they can get to the road faster than a Greyhound.
[and they -totally- disregard call-back commands when “hunting”...even though they may be “hunting” a plastic bag blowing around in the wind]
With thousands of acres of wilderness around me, not to mention a county road not that far away, it was better to have them fenced in.
With them, electronic fencing is totally useless.
At 35mph+, they’re through the line before the collar even has a chance to zap them.
Ironically, my ducks were the scourge of the area.
The guy at the end of the lane’s yard flooded every time it rained and the ducks would duck out and go play in the newly formed “pond”.
[because the big fish pond _right behind the house_ wasn’t “good enough” for them? I dunno...ducks are weird]
The chickens and the geese always stayed home.
The goats?
Too self sufficient.
They need a fence.
I’m sure being “lost” in the mountains would suit them just fine.
As it is, we have to keep the place locked up like a Supermax because of peoples’ bikes in the shop.
At least it keep the bears out, unlike the fenceless neighbors who spend hours cleaning up the messes and money buying new trash cans and storage sheds.
It’s weird...if you dearly love your dog, you won’t need “courage”....you’ll just *do* without thinking.
I didn’t “plan” it.
The goon pulled out his pistol, cocked the hammer and aimed it at my dog.
The next thing I knew, the dog and I were flat on the floor and and I was yelling “Shoot -me- you ******* coward!”
[obviously, he did not]
The weird thing was that I felt absolutely no fear.....just cold, numb, determined rage.
I pray to God that NONE of us here EVER have to be in that position.
I was lucky.
I agree about those who abuse animals, regardless of religion, race, creed or -position-.
I had that same exact sitting frog in my yard. My GSD/Rottie mix knocked it over one too many times :(
A country dog will survive!
Isn’t it the most adorable frog, ever?
I always thought it looked as though it were singing a hymn or something, with its little hands clasped over its heart, looking skyward.
Poor thing’s been thumped off its perch by the dogs, weed-whacked, encased in ice and fished out of the Koi pond more times than I can recall.
[poor little guy’s still hanging in there....~maybe~ it’s praying to be delivered from such a hazardous life]....LOL
You just need some armor-piercing ammo that will go through the car door, the “bullet-proof” vest and his backup standing behind him and ensure that their bodycount is higher than yours.
If you check the Law Enforcement Memorial, you’ll find an explosion in LEOs killed beginning in 1920, that is, coinciding with Prohibition. One hates to say it but a lot of LEOs are being killed today by people who are simply defending what had been their rights before the explosion of government intrusion and busybody laws. It is a message the government has so far responded to only with more force.
:D
“in 1920, that is, coinciding with Prohibition”
One of those LEOs shot my paternal grandfather in the back for moonshining.
There was no work to be found anywhere and he had a wife and three kids to feed.
[one had a bad heart and died at 13]
He didn’t even drink.
He ran up the ridge and the sheriff shot him.
Just like that.
Left the wife and kids and the girl died not long after.
Due process.
Right.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
So sad.
Prohibition against alcohol did not work. Prohibition against drugs does not work.
By the way, you seen the TV series “Breaking Bad”. My husband and I are doing a marathon viewing of the series now from netflicks. If anything has convinced me that we should end the War on Drugs, this series has done it.
One of my uncles was from the Cumberland area of Maryland. He was** extremely** disciplined in training his dog, “Bootsie”. That dog would not so much as put a toe nail over the edge of the kitchen doorway. My uncle approached child rearing in the same manner. He had great kids too.
The War on Drugs is a colusion between the “right”, or the larger part of it, and the left. It is legal at the federal level only by the New Deal interpretation of interstate commerce in the Constitution to mean ALL commerce. Even today on the Supreme Court, “conservatives” like Antonin Scalia let the left get away with overregulative murder in commerce power cases just in order to keep their war on drugs going. (Alcohol Prohibition was a constitutionally carved out exception that, once repealed, was ultimately replaced by extraconstitutional prohibition of other substances frowned upon by the churches to gain their support in an unholy alliance to build socialist tyranny.)
They say they are going to turn the Walter White character into an unsympathetic Scarface type. Well, what can you expect when the “good guys” are jackboot thugs acting outside the Constitution?
I had a dobie once. He was a monster in size, but the sweetest soul this side of Doggie Heaven. He died when he was 8. The vet said it was age, and the big breeds like his tend not to live long.
I’ll never own another full breed doberman again because of it. Broke my heart.
The odds are huge that it wasn’t “age”.
Most of mine lived into their teens.
Dilated cardiomopathy has become rampant in the breed in the last 20 years due to a number of death-gene carrying “big show winners” being used heavily in breeding programs.
There is now a test to determine if a Dobe is carrying that gene.
-Good- breeders are testing for it and NOT breeding dogs who have it.
Don’t let bad breeders put you off of owning the greatest dogs in the world.
The Dobermann was -never- meant to be a “big breed”.
The standard calls for males to be _no more than 28”_ at the withers.
That is a medium sized dog.
As with everything else, morons decided that “bigger is better” and wrecked them by making them “monstrous”.
Find a good breeder who _sticks to the standard and does all health testing_ and you can again have a healed heart.
Start with breeders who are importing European Dobes.
They haven’t wrecked them.
I understand your the agony of your loss all too well but for myself, putting my head up to the gun of potential heartache is preferable to not having them.
There are part of me and if I haven’t got at least one, I’m not really alive.
Kipling knew me well:
The Power of the Dog
by
Rudyard Kipling
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passsion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But ... you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ‘em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long—
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
My dobie, whom I named “Dobie”, lived from 1983-91. He was huge. Stood higher than my waist (I’m 5’10”). He was a rescue from some drug dealers. He was a gentle giant.
I still have dogs! I’ve got a nice German Shepherd, another resuce, and two ankle biter mixed breeds for the kids.
I just don’t want another Dobie. He broke the mold for that breed for me.
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