quote:

Originally posted by rburg:
We used to live up on the neighboring hill. Yes, that was 2 doors away, but up. Anyway, I have a low tolerance for my trash getting tossed around. Like every Sunday night. I don't even like putting it out. Then putting the lid on the can, then putting some sort of restrainer on the lid to keep it there. Was a waste of time because the damn 'coon was smarter than I was. But I'm the intolerant type.

Then one evening I was sleeping soundly, probably enjoying my dream, when there arose such a clatter, so I awoke to see what was the matter. Grabbing my handy Maglite, I ran to the end of the hall. I shone it out to see movement in my next door neighbors yard. His trash can was on its side, and kind of rolling from side to side. The light irritated the critter inside and out came what appeared to be a small black bear. Then I noticed the rings on its tail. Ahh. One of our native nuisances. It then ignored me and the neighbor and continued to spread his nicely packed garbage around the yard, eating whatever he liked. Then it waddled off. I now see it might have been a young Jerry Nadler, head of a House committee.

Anyway, it all only took a minute or so. The next day I saw the neighbor picking up his garbage to take it off the hill and to the curb.

I asked him if he'd mind a gunshot in the night. Of course this is Kentucky, where we tend to take care of our own problems. So he said he'd welcome it.

The next Sunday evening I set up my shooting station at the end of the hallway. 22 rifle, flash light, and comfortable chair. About midnight I heard the distinctive crashing and banging down off the hill (where I live these days). A few minutes later another distinctive crash but this time a bit nearer. Ahh. I figured it would only be a few more minutes till it was time to shoot.

Then without warning I heard a gunshot. Another of our fine residents who also owned a 22. Then no more sound. Someone killified that fat fucker! Saved me the trouble, too. I never did figure out who did the dirty deed, but it saved me the 22 cartridge. We moved off the hill 25 years ago, and it was probably near where I currently live. Wished it had been me that took the decisive action. Try calling the lazy bastards that collect money from the city to get them to do something. Its easier just to do it yerself!

Yeah, I know its kind of illegal to send God's lovely critters into the next dimension. Round herebouts, no one much cares for vermin. Eliminating them is a pubic service, one we can't get the public servants to bother with.

The fool who handled the one fighting with his dog took a lot of risks. They carry rabies and I'm pretty sure don't bother with their shots, just like wetbacks don't bother with car insurance.