I love dogs.
I have two pet dogs, they are part of the family.
I was up in north Georgia, building a house for my Mom. This was out in the country.
Every day I took my little Beagle up there, she just hung around the house while I worked.
One neighbor came over, he said a pack of dogs had killed his chickens. The lead dog was a big, ugly chow, he said.
Another neighbor came over, said a pack of dogs had killed his little Pomeranian dog.
He said the lead dog was a big, ugly chow.
These guys kept talking about calling animal control. Hell, there was no animal control in that county.
I figured my little Beagle was next to die.
My Dad had moved some stuff into the house, including a double barrel 20 gauge. He had some number 8 shot.
I knew how devastating close range birdshot was, from having seen so many people killed with it when I was a Paramedic.
I patterened that gun, 3 inches low at 20 feet.
Every morning, I loaded that shotgun and set it by the door.
Sure enough, 4 days later, here came a pack of 4 dogs, lead by a big ugly chow. They moved right in on my little Beagle, and she was smart enough to run under my truck.
That chow would charge at the truck, and growl. He was trying to flush my little Beagle. No doubt he would have killed her.
From the doorway, 20 feet away, I leveled the 20 gauge at the chow.
The other 3 dogs saw me, and they backed up a step, they knew something was wrong.
The chow kept lunging at my truck.
I fired, and it was astonishing. It blew the dog away. It was like in the movies, the dog was blown to the ground, like the earth was jerked from underneath him.
I went right up to him, he was graveyard dead. I didn't even need the second barrel.
The other 3 mutts had hauled ass, thus the drawback of birdshot, no good on a 30 yard shot.
I drove 1/2 mile away, and threw that chow into a giant, 50 foot wide briar patch. I swung the 60 pound dog around in a circle, like a discus thrower, and let fly. He landed in the middle of the patch, not visible unless you crawled into the middle of the briars.
Like Clint Eastwood said, "Buzzards gotta eat, same as worms."
I went back and washed the blood from my truck.
I Shut Up, and told no one about my work on the Neighborhood Safety Patrol.
Every time I think about that, I get a little smile. In spite of my affection for dogs, I did the world a favor that day.
No more chickens, or dogs got killed.
So, I guess you could stake out a little Beagle, that would draw the murderous dog pack.
Last edited by simonkenton; July 9, 2009 at 12:14 PM.