Sarcasm... A Free Service I Offer.

The post about the chihuahua and the miniature dachshund getting shot by police was a little close to home for me. I grew up having both breeds as pets. When I was in elementary school, my family had a chihuahua. Chi Chi. Chi Chi was a normal chihuahua. Hyper, easily agitated, and yippy. Chi Chi didn't like to be messed with. Sure, you could pat her, but if you got rough with her, she had no problem getting mean. One of my brothers actually used to pick on her. Well, she waited until the perfect opportunity presented itself, and then got her revenge. My brother was poking her and tossing her around... and growling at her with his face just inches from hers. She latched onto his nose and ripped it open. Given the vicious nature of this killing machine, it was a miracle he survived the attack. But he carries the 1/2" scar on the side of his nose as a reminder that life is too short to not shoot at the first growl. My father (generally he is the anonymous poster on this blog, because you can't shoot old dogs who can't work computers) has had miniature dachshunds most of my life. A few years back, Mrs. Old Fart and myself took one of our greyhounds to visit my family down south. We put our dog in their fenced back yard and then the mini-dachshunds were released. I was worried the GH might go after them, since they are small targets... but my worries were soon relieved by the screams of my greyhound as eight or nine 10 pound vicious killers flung themselves onto the intruders legs... growling and biting. The greyhound survived by shear luck, but because I had forgotten to pack a gun to protect us from these vicious killers, she did require a couple of stitches. I know that if I'd had a Glock with me, we could have avoided even those. So, those are my stories of surviving killer dog attacks. I wonder if the police shoot cats? They can give you a nasty scratch!