Years ago I spent my time working cattle, some of which were rank and bad to the bone. To assist in this endeavor I had a pack of "catch dogs", most of which resembled the hounds from hell. They spent their off time loafing about the house and barns.
During the winter months I had any number of bulls in adjacent traps, pastures to you city folk. Part of my daily routine was to feed these bulls. About a hundred short steps from the house was a hay barn. As soon as the morning chill abated somewhat I would amble out the barn and load hay bales onto a tractor and distibute them about the pasture.
One day I noticed a young cat had taken up residence in the hay barn. First impule was to grab it with the hay hook but then I thought of all the rats that resided there. So the cat was allowed to live. As the days passed the cat became friendly and in need of attention that it wasn't getting from me..
On a particularly nice afternoon a friend and his freshly aquired bride decided to visit. As they were driving down the long gravel road to the house I was finishing up my feeding. I started back to house and noticed the lonely barn pussy following me. My friends pulled up in the drive and got out to stretch. The hounds from hell came to greet them, they were quite friendly to most folks. About that time I walked through the gate into the yard with said kitty in tow.. Immediatly the killer hounds glassed over and went into attack mode. Slim grabbed the crat by the head while Jake got a hind leg. Grunch latched on whatever was left. In the next five seconds hair, bones and eyeballs flew in every direction. It was a wonderful spectacle! However my buddies wife barfed all over my nice gravel road and had to be evacuated by her hubby, post haste.. She never came back, no sense of humor..

Stories such as this enrage me.There is a special place in Hell for such behavior.
She could of at least stuck around and made sure the dogs got every last morsel of puke cleaned up.

Pat forgot the last part of that quip, "Back when men were men" "And when women were livestock". A long ago friend of mine used to like throwing out that line, well until her married a gal who was a bit of a feminazi and a bodybuilder. I sometimes wonder where he is today and if he is still alive! derf

Pat B,

I sure do love a good story, I really liked the happy ending to this one.

Hog Killer