So I get home around noon. I hear my best friend, a 14 year old Bassett Hound crying in the back yard. I go out and he is limping to me. obviously in pain, tears running down his old gray face with dried and fresh blood on the back porch.
Some fucker shot one of the best dogs I've ever had in the hind quarters. The bullet passed thru and he was slowly bleeding to death. I live in a good neighborhood.
I sat in the bottom of my shower washing him. He was crying and bleeding. I had nothing to help his pain. I knew what I needed to do but I wanted him to be clean before I did it.
Once clean, I wrapped his rear in a towel. He had lost a lot of blood. I placed him in the passenger seat of my truck and we headed to the vet. I made a stop by Spring Creek BBQ to get a pound of Brisket. This old man could have at least one good last meal which he ate happily.
I had to put down my dear old friend. This 75 pound gentle bassett slipped off to sleep in my arms. I took him home and buried him in the shade beneath the tree we would sit for so many years.
If I find out who did this I will take them out to the middle of nowhere, shoot them thru their ass cheeks and slowly put them feet first thru a wood chipper.