Deadmeat
Well-known member
After reading a previous post on a beloved dog who was killed by a couple of chows, I decided to weigh in on the topic of irresponsible dog owners. It's a particular pet peeve of mine (well, so is anything that relates to those who won't take responsibility for their actions, whatever they are).
Years ago my wife and I bought a new house at the end of a cul de sac in a semi-rural area near Maryville, Tennessee. The house was on a .75- acre lot, most of which was in the rear of the house. On the back end of the lot was a wooded area, and since we were at the end of the cul de sac, the houses of both of our neighbors on either side of us were in front of ours. The yard was plowed up, seeded, and hay put down to get the grass started.
Unfortunately, my neighbor to the left had two large Irish setters, a male and a female, both of which were allowed to roam free and considered my newly-seeded yard as their personal outhouse. Walking though the yard was like walking though a minefield--you really had to watch where you stepped--and more than once I managed to step in a dog pile and track it all over our new wall to wall carpet.
Finally, I went to the neighbor and asked him if he would please keep the dogs out of my yard, explaining that they were keeping my grass from coming in. He told me in no uncertain terms that this was the country, not the city, and out here roaming dogs were a way of life. He said there were no leash laws, and unfortunately I checked and found he was right.
Having explored every option I could think of to resolve the situation peacefully, I loaded my .22 with rat shot and kept it beside the back door, which faced the back yard, the favorite location of the dog's outhouse. At the time I was working at night while all my neighbors worked during the day. My plan was to just pop the dogs in the butt with the rat shot once they came into the yard and after getting shot a time or two maybe they'd find another place to squeeze the Charmin. Since we were in the country it wasn't unusual to hear gunshots, so if one was heard nearby it could be easily explained.
Sure enough, a few days later I was at home when I saw the male dog come into the yard with the intended purpose of doing a job in my neatly plowed yard. I grabbed the .22, gently opened the back door a crack, and pointed the rifle outside. While I was reaching for the .22 the dog had found a comfortable position and was in the process of letting it go. Unfortunately, when I looked outside I saw that instead of seeing his butt he was facing me not more than 30 feet away. Not being able to shoot him in the butt, I was just about to wait until he finished when I saw the twins hanging down. I figured, "Why not?". I drew a bead on the boys and touched 'er off.
Well, if my purpose was to get the dog out of the yard, I succeeded masterfully. I don't think the space shuttle ever left the launch pad as fast as that dog left my yard. Unfortunately, the space shuttle never made as much noise as that dog did either. I've never heard as much noise come out of an animal as I did that dog. Thank goodness everyone on the street was at work.
The dog made a beeline for the woods and I heard it howling until the sound faded in the distance. Later that evening I heard the owner calling the dog's name but it didn't come. Several days later I finally saw the dog walking slowly, very slowly, and very gingerly up the street. The steps it was taking were slow and deliberate and it had a most unusual gait, the rear legs appearing to be much more widespread than usual.
Interestingly, the next day the owner built a fence around his property, and until we moved seven years later the dogs were never again outside it. I'm sure he knew I was the culprit in giving his male dog a .22-caliber vasectomy but he never approached me about it. Come to think of it, I don't remember the female ever having any pups either.
I'm not proud of what I did, and I wish there had been another way to resolve the situation. I don't dislike dogs, just irresponsible dog owners.
Years ago my wife and I bought a new house at the end of a cul de sac in a semi-rural area near Maryville, Tennessee. The house was on a .75- acre lot, most of which was in the rear of the house. On the back end of the lot was a wooded area, and since we were at the end of the cul de sac, the houses of both of our neighbors on either side of us were in front of ours. The yard was plowed up, seeded, and hay put down to get the grass started.
Unfortunately, my neighbor to the left had two large Irish setters, a male and a female, both of which were allowed to roam free and considered my newly-seeded yard as their personal outhouse. Walking though the yard was like walking though a minefield--you really had to watch where you stepped--and more than once I managed to step in a dog pile and track it all over our new wall to wall carpet.
Finally, I went to the neighbor and asked him if he would please keep the dogs out of my yard, explaining that they were keeping my grass from coming in. He told me in no uncertain terms that this was the country, not the city, and out here roaming dogs were a way of life. He said there were no leash laws, and unfortunately I checked and found he was right.
Having explored every option I could think of to resolve the situation peacefully, I loaded my .22 with rat shot and kept it beside the back door, which faced the back yard, the favorite location of the dog's outhouse. At the time I was working at night while all my neighbors worked during the day. My plan was to just pop the dogs in the butt with the rat shot once they came into the yard and after getting shot a time or two maybe they'd find another place to squeeze the Charmin. Since we were in the country it wasn't unusual to hear gunshots, so if one was heard nearby it could be easily explained.
Sure enough, a few days later I was at home when I saw the male dog come into the yard with the intended purpose of doing a job in my neatly plowed yard. I grabbed the .22, gently opened the back door a crack, and pointed the rifle outside. While I was reaching for the .22 the dog had found a comfortable position and was in the process of letting it go. Unfortunately, when I looked outside I saw that instead of seeing his butt he was facing me not more than 30 feet away. Not being able to shoot him in the butt, I was just about to wait until he finished when I saw the twins hanging down. I figured, "Why not?". I drew a bead on the boys and touched 'er off.
Well, if my purpose was to get the dog out of the yard, I succeeded masterfully. I don't think the space shuttle ever left the launch pad as fast as that dog left my yard. Unfortunately, the space shuttle never made as much noise as that dog did either. I've never heard as much noise come out of an animal as I did that dog. Thank goodness everyone on the street was at work.
The dog made a beeline for the woods and I heard it howling until the sound faded in the distance. Later that evening I heard the owner calling the dog's name but it didn't come. Several days later I finally saw the dog walking slowly, very slowly, and very gingerly up the street. The steps it was taking were slow and deliberate and it had a most unusual gait, the rear legs appearing to be much more widespread than usual.
Interestingly, the next day the owner built a fence around his property, and until we moved seven years later the dogs were never again outside it. I'm sure he knew I was the culprit in giving his male dog a .22-caliber vasectomy but he never approached me about it. Come to think of it, I don't remember the female ever having any pups either.
I'm not proud of what I did, and I wish there had been another way to resolve the situation. I don't dislike dogs, just irresponsible dog owners.