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One Heck of a Dead-Dog Day ! One Heck of a Dead-Dog Day !
by Leah Sellers
2013-03-07 11:01:55
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This story is based upon true events which occurred in the state of Texas, March 1, 2013.
Ka-boom !
“Gotcha’ you ‘ole mongrel !  You Pit Bulls are good for nothin’.  Just like your owners.”
“Let’s see how snooty my neighbor is now when he finds out that I kilt his dog ‘cause it mosied over to pee in my yard again.”
Your peein’ days are over dog !  Heh-heh !
“Henry, what are you shootin’ at in the backyard ?”
“Never you mind, Maybelle.  You get back inside.”
Maybelle ignored Henry and stood at the back of their duplex propping the screen door open with her corpulent hip.  “Good Lord, Henry.  You have gone and done it.  You shot the neighbors’ dog.  Is it dead ?”
“What do you think, woman ?”
“I think you better call the police and tell them what you’ve done and why, before our neighbors get back home.”
“And why would I do that ?”
“Cause you’re gonna need someone in between you and Jimbo, when he finds his dog dead, Henry.  He loved that ‘ole dog.”
“Shows what he knows.  I told him what would happen if that dog dug under the fence again, and relieved himself in my yard.  All I’ve done is keep My Word.”
“Your Word won’t mean diddley-squat to Jimbo, Henry.  He loved that dog.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll call the po-lice.  Where’s the cell phone, woman ?  You had it last.”
“I’ll get it.  You put that gun up and come on into the house before Jimbo comes home.”
“I ain’t givin’ my gun up to you, woman.  I ain’t givin’ my gun up to anyone.  And I ain’t afraid of Jimbo.  I warned him what would happen to his varmint if it got in my yard again.”
“That may be, Henry.  But it was wrong of you to shoot that dog.  Hank never harmed anybody.  He was good with all of the neighborhood kids.  He was a good dog, Henry.”
“That Beast t’warn’t any good to me, woman.  Every time it saw me it growled and bristled up.”
“Smart dog, if you ask me.”
“Give me that phone, Maybelle.”
“You don’t have to yank it out of my hands, Henry.  I haven’t done anything wrong.  You’re the dog-killer around here.”
“Watch it, woman.  I’m still holdin’ that gun you’re complainin’ so much about.”
“Call the police, Henry.  I have washing and cleaning to attend to“
Henry punched in 911.  “Hello, is this the Austin po-lice ?  Yes, there’s somethin’ you can help me with.  There’s a dead dog in my backyard.  Yes, I kilt it.  Yes, I shot it in the head.  Bullet went plum through the varmint.  No, I won’t put my gun away.  My neighbor, the dog’s owner, might git back home before you git out here.  Yes, I live on CUP Way in a duplex.  Number on the duplex is Number One.”
“Yep, I’ll wait inside my home for you.  The dog’s dead carcass is in my backyard.  Yep, it was one of those mangy Pit Bull dogs.”
“Nope, the dog wasn’t attackin’ anybody.  It dug under the fence and commenced to peein’ and takin’ a dump in my backyard.  So, I put a bullet through that mutt’s thick skull.  I warned Jimbo, my neighbor, what I’d do if the dog got into my backyard again, and I stayed true to My Word.”
“Right now, there’s no one else here, but me and my wife, Maybelle.  Alright, we’ll wait.  How long will it take you to git here ?  Okey-doke,
See ya in a bit.”
Twenty minutes passed before a black and white, cherry-on-top, patrol car pulled up in front of Henry and Maybelle’s duplex.
Henry opened his front door and walked outside into the front yard to greet the policeman with his gun in hand.
“Good afternoon, sir.  You the gentleman who called in about the dead dog ?  Are you the one who shot him ?”
“Yep, that would be me.  The dog’s stinkin’ carcass is rottin’out back.  Won’t be long ‘til the buzzards start circlin’ it.”
“Follow me, officer, and I’ll take you to it.”
“Before we go anywhere, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to put the gun away.”
“It’s my gun.  I’ve got a license for it.  I’m a Citizen of these here United States, and I have every Right to bear arms anywhere - ’specially my own home.”
Well sir, you are a Citizen, but you do not have a Right to shoot a gun inside the city limits unless you are endangered and protecting yourself.”
“This is my firearm, and I’m not givin’ it up to nobody !  It’s my Right to have it.”
“Sir, don’t make me have to repeat myself.  If you don’t want to put it up, I’ll hang onto it and return it to you before I leave here.”
The policeman reached for the gun in Henry’s hand.  Henry lurched backward and yelled,  “You ain’t takin’ my gun !”
“Give me that gun !”
“No !”  Henry waved it toward the policeman.  The policeman lunged at Henry and struggled for control of the gun.
Ka-boom !
Henry slumped to the ground with a vermillion stain quickly spreading throughout the entirety of his dingy white shirt.  The shocked policeman stood over Henry’s bleeding carcass in disbelief.
Maybelle screamed,  “Henry !”  And ran out the front door to his dying body.  “He’s not breathin’.  Why did you kill him ?”
The policeman picked up Henry’s gun, and having no good answer for the grief stricken woman, walked in stunned silence to his patrol car.
“Dispatch, this is Officer Remington.  Send an ambulance, and a coroner’s team.  Yeah, you heard me right.  I’ve got a dead dog in the backyard, and a dead dog-killer in the front yard.”
The policeman looked over at the wailing woman collapsed on top of Henry’s bloody, lifeless body.
He shook his head from side-to-side as if trying to awaken from a very bad dream. “This is one heck of a dead-dog day.”
Maybelle punctuated Officer Remington’s proclamation with another mournful howl. Every dog in the neighborhood howled with her, but not for her.

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