My Mum used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board with the same knife and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning.
My Mum used to defrost hamburger on the counter AND I used to eat it raw sometimes, too. Our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in icepack coolers, but I can't remember getting E.coli.
Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring)--no beach closures then.
We all took gym, not PE...and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion! soles and built-in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened, because they tell us how much safer we are now.
Flunking gym was not an option...even for stupid kids! I guess PE must be much harder than gym.
Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the national anthem, and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention.
We must have had horribly damaged psyches. What an archaic health system we had then.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.
I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations.
And now this iPod thing. It can hold thousands of songs. Problem is, there isn't one song popular today that I care to listen to.
Oh yeah, and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting? I could have been killed!
We played "king of the hill' on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites, and when we got hurt, Mum pulled out the 48-cent bottle of Mercurochrome (kids liked it better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our butt spanked.
Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose of a $79 bottle of antibiotics, and then Mum calls the attorney to sue the contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it was such a threat.
We didn't act up at the neighbour’s house either because if we did, we got our butt spanked there and then we got butt spanked again when we got home.
I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front stoop, just before he fell off. Little did his Mum know that she could have owned our house. Instead,
she picked him up and swatted him for being such a goof. It was a neighbourhood run! amuck.
To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family. How could we possibly have known that? We needed to get into group therapy and anger management classes? We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac! How did we ever survive?
LOVE TO ALL OF US WHO SHARED THIS ERA, AND TO ALL WHO DIDN'T--SORRY FOR WHAT YOU MISSED. I WOULDN'T TRADE IT FOR ANYTHING!!!!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Fox Hunting with a Jack Russell
The night was quiet, all the humans asleep. The dog was chewing on a rabbit, caught by either cats or dog. The cats were watching waiting for their share.
Suddenly the dog gets a bee in his bonnet and is barking and growling.
The human wakes up and goes to investigate, the cats are howling, the dog has taken off down the back, chasing something that has upset him.
The human enters the paddock, something like a large cat takes off across the paddock, the dog is still going nuts down in the valley. The noise is terrible and is carrying down the valley, I’m sure the neighbours will be investigating soon.
The human, minus torch, follows the dog down the valley, through the fences and onto the dam wall. There fighting in the water is something could be a joey (baby kangaroo) a fox or even a feral cat. Not sure which, as there is only a sliver of moonlight.
The dog and the opponent are the same size, the dog is growling as only a blood thirsty dog can. In and out of water, both animals disappear under the water several times. The dog refuses to be called off. He just looks at the stupid human and says ‘get stuffed, this is my fight’
Some 30 minutes later another human calls down the paddock, looking for the first, not aware that no. 1 human is watching the fight to the death of these two animals. One will not survive the night and with the way the Jack Russell was going – the human thinks it might just be him that wins this bout.
The first human, calls to the second human, “Bring a torch and a camera.” The second human, not knowing what was going on, races back to the house and grabs requested items. The second human, climbs through fences, up and down dale to reach the dam wall. Only to stand beside the first human and say “Call him off, he’s going to get killed”
The first human turns to the second and says “You try, because he won’t listen to me, I’ve been trying for ½ hour and he just looks at me and then continues trying to kill it.”
Suddenly the dog is under the water with whatever it is, the clock ticks, some 30 seconds later the dog emerges and drags whatever it is to the bank. Human No. 1 starts taking pictures, the light, even with the torchlight is low.
It has big ears, skinny legs, still could be a joey, fox or feral cat. Then the smell hits the Humans, no doubt about it, it’s a fox. Only a fox could smell that vile and disgusting.
The dog is now allowing us to take photos, but is still going for the throat. The thing is dead, it has to be dead, it’s not moving.
The dog after about 5 minutes decides it’s dead, the war has been won, he saved his dinner (the rabbit) and all is well. He trots home with the humans, to finish consuming his rabbit.
Please do NOT copy any of the photos on this blog - if you would like to use any photos, please leave a comment with contact details, Photos will be supplied without watermark and at full size. All comments are moderated and won't be shown to the public. Thank-you
Please note that no photo has been photoshopped on this blog, cropped yes, photoshopped NO!
Enjoy all of natures beauty!
Please visit Redbubble, perhaps there is something there you would like to purchase. Refer the photos below!
Suddenly the dog gets a bee in his bonnet and is barking and growling.
The human wakes up and goes to investigate, the cats are howling, the dog has taken off down the back, chasing something that has upset him.
The human enters the paddock, something like a large cat takes off across the paddock, the dog is still going nuts down in the valley. The noise is terrible and is carrying down the valley, I’m sure the neighbours will be investigating soon.
The human, minus torch, follows the dog down the valley, through the fences and onto the dam wall. There fighting in the water is something could be a joey (baby kangaroo) a fox or even a feral cat. Not sure which, as there is only a sliver of moonlight.
The dog and the opponent are the same size, the dog is growling as only a blood thirsty dog can. In and out of water, both animals disappear under the water several times. The dog refuses to be called off. He just looks at the stupid human and says ‘get stuffed, this is my fight’
Some 30 minutes later another human calls down the paddock, looking for the first, not aware that no. 1 human is watching the fight to the death of these two animals. One will not survive the night and with the way the Jack Russell was going – the human thinks it might just be him that wins this bout.
The first human, calls to the second human, “Bring a torch and a camera.” The second human, not knowing what was going on, races back to the house and grabs requested items. The second human, climbs through fences, up and down dale to reach the dam wall. Only to stand beside the first human and say “Call him off, he’s going to get killed”
The first human turns to the second and says “You try, because he won’t listen to me, I’ve been trying for ½ hour and he just looks at me and then continues trying to kill it.”
Suddenly the dog is under the water with whatever it is, the clock ticks, some 30 seconds later the dog emerges and drags whatever it is to the bank. Human No. 1 starts taking pictures, the light, even with the torchlight is low.
It has big ears, skinny legs, still could be a joey, fox or feral cat. Then the smell hits the Humans, no doubt about it, it’s a fox. Only a fox could smell that vile and disgusting.
The dog is now allowing us to take photos, but is still going for the throat. The thing is dead, it has to be dead, it’s not moving.
The dog after about 5 minutes decides it’s dead, the war has been won, he saved his dinner (the rabbit) and all is well. He trots home with the humans, to finish consuming his rabbit.
Please do NOT copy any of the photos on this blog - if you would like to use any photos, please leave a comment with contact details, Photos will be supplied without watermark and at full size. All comments are moderated and won't be shown to the public. Thank-you
Please note that no photo has been photoshopped on this blog, cropped yes, photoshopped NO!
Enjoy all of natures beauty!
Please visit Redbubble, perhaps there is something there you would like to purchase. Refer the photos below!
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Ode to Lamb Chops and Joey
Lamb Chops and Joey – How can I explain this?
Alright – I won’t other than we ate them – Lamb Chops the 6month old and Joey the 12month old – both rested nicely in the freezer before being consumed
See we live on a farm – and we often eat the meat we grow. In fact we rarely not know the day the animals were born, they day of each monthly birthday and the day they met their maker.
Lamb Chops – by definition was obviously a lamb
Joey – A little harder to determine was a calf, well yearling in the meat market
There have been many others – but these two stick in my mind for some very interesting reasons.
Lamb Chops was introduced to my family after death, when everyone was sitting down at the table and my 5yo piped up and said “Lamb Chops is yummy” An adult at the table corrected the sentence “No, The lamb Chops are yummy” and the 5yo piped up again and said, “NO, Lamb Chops IS yummy” and then proceeded to inform the dinner guests of who lamb chops was.
Reminder to self, never allow a child to name your dinner whilst still on the hoof, it causes people confusion and also to be ill when they realize where the meat actually came from. For some reason the meat from supermarkets is different!
Joey…………. Well Joey was a darling little boy. (Well, little really isn’t true, all 250kg of him) He was dispatched of in the normal manner and put into the freezer.
Standing at the BBQ a couple of weeks later and guests ask us where the cow was. The 10yo then pipes up and advises said dinner guests that we will be eating Joey for dinner. One of the guests went vegetarian that night, and called us cruel.
I don’t understand, the meat from the supermarket is meat from cows/lambs that once stood in a paddock, ate lots of grass, looked cute and was born to feed them. Yet a cow raised on a friends farm and killed for the same reason, is considered cruel?
Everything in the supermarket has raw ingredients; those raw ingredients are grown on farms. Those raw ingredients are sometimes turned into what I consider inedible foodstuffs, that are prohibited in my house. My children have tasted ‘real’ milk from real cows. Many children have no idea where milk comes from. When asked they think it grows and comes from the supermarket.
Everything we eat comes from the land, not the supermarket. Teach your children this.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
My Father, in Loving Memory
31.10.1936 – 05.03.10
My father is gone, My father is dead.
It was quick, perhaps too quick. He went to bed, he slept for a bit, he got up, he went back to bed, It sounded like he was having a nightmare, maybe 30 seconds, by the time the light was turned on he was gone.
So simple. The towns on-call medical person came, he did his upmost. The ambulance came, they did their best.
He was gone. Perhaps a god-send. We don’t know the cause, perhaps we never will.
I am glad it was so quick. To be trapped in a body that didn’t work and to have a mind fully-functional, I could only imagine as being a living death.
I am going to miss him, my children will miss him. My mother will miss him. There will always be an empty place at the table.
My father enjoyed his food. I knew he wasn’t well on Sunday when he refused his favourite, Spotted Dog (bread and butter pudding with sultanas) with oodles of cream. In fact he didn’t eat well at all, but that is not unusual. No-one thought much of it – everyone is allowed an ‘off’ day once in a while.
Looking back over the week, I think he knew, add the information I knew with the information that people told me when I made the dreaded phone-calls, added up to he KNEW. HE KNEW something was wrong.
He had started visiting extended family, long lost relatives. People he had perhaps not spoken to in decades. Looking back it should have been a sign. But you don’t put two and two together until after the fact.
18 hours ago, I received THE call. 18 hours later I feel nothing. No emotion, just black, almost blank inside. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling or even if.
The last 12 months of his life have probably been the hardest of his entire life. His health was as good as could be expected for his age, but he lost over 30 people in one dreadful night, he lost his town, he lost everything he had known for 40 years. I think it broke his heart, I think it broke his soul.
My father came to the big smoke to finish his education, he met my mother, he married my mother. He owned and ran a business. He opted for a tree-change and moved into a small milling town. He ran the mill office, my mother ran the small holiday accommodation business they set up. He ‘retired’ from the mill to concentrate on the accommodation business, which my parents ran together for almost 25 years. They sold that business barely 12 months before the fires destroyed it for them. They were starting to enjoy life, take holidays and being S.K.I.’s (Good on them I say!, they worked for it)
Both my parents were an integral part of the community. My father played a major part in establishing the town water supply, the sewerage system, the tourism board. He maintained the water supply and the associated quality checks. Many nights he was called out to repair broken mains and would come home early in the morning, covered in red mud from the armpits down. He was trustee for the cemetery and buried many of the people who were lost in the fires. He was part of the community, the community a part of him. When the community was destroyed, a large part of him was also destroyed.
I may not have had a chance to say good-bye – But I am thankful he didn’t suffer.
And…………….. now the tears start.
My father is gone, My father is dead.
It was quick, perhaps too quick. He went to bed, he slept for a bit, he got up, he went back to bed, It sounded like he was having a nightmare, maybe 30 seconds, by the time the light was turned on he was gone.
So simple. The towns on-call medical person came, he did his upmost. The ambulance came, they did their best.
He was gone. Perhaps a god-send. We don’t know the cause, perhaps we never will.
I am glad it was so quick. To be trapped in a body that didn’t work and to have a mind fully-functional, I could only imagine as being a living death.
I am going to miss him, my children will miss him. My mother will miss him. There will always be an empty place at the table.
My father enjoyed his food. I knew he wasn’t well on Sunday when he refused his favourite, Spotted Dog (bread and butter pudding with sultanas) with oodles of cream. In fact he didn’t eat well at all, but that is not unusual. No-one thought much of it – everyone is allowed an ‘off’ day once in a while.
Looking back over the week, I think he knew, add the information I knew with the information that people told me when I made the dreaded phone-calls, added up to he KNEW. HE KNEW something was wrong.
He had started visiting extended family, long lost relatives. People he had perhaps not spoken to in decades. Looking back it should have been a sign. But you don’t put two and two together until after the fact.
18 hours ago, I received THE call. 18 hours later I feel nothing. No emotion, just black, almost blank inside. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling or even if.
The last 12 months of his life have probably been the hardest of his entire life. His health was as good as could be expected for his age, but he lost over 30 people in one dreadful night, he lost his town, he lost everything he had known for 40 years. I think it broke his heart, I think it broke his soul.
My father came to the big smoke to finish his education, he met my mother, he married my mother. He owned and ran a business. He opted for a tree-change and moved into a small milling town. He ran the mill office, my mother ran the small holiday accommodation business they set up. He ‘retired’ from the mill to concentrate on the accommodation business, which my parents ran together for almost 25 years. They sold that business barely 12 months before the fires destroyed it for them. They were starting to enjoy life, take holidays and being S.K.I.’s (Good on them I say!, they worked for it)
Both my parents were an integral part of the community. My father played a major part in establishing the town water supply, the sewerage system, the tourism board. He maintained the water supply and the associated quality checks. Many nights he was called out to repair broken mains and would come home early in the morning, covered in red mud from the armpits down. He was trustee for the cemetery and buried many of the people who were lost in the fires. He was part of the community, the community a part of him. When the community was destroyed, a large part of him was also destroyed.
I may not have had a chance to say good-bye – But I am thankful he didn’t suffer.
And…………….. now the tears start.
**Kiss & Hug those you love,**
**because tomorrow you may not have the chance**
Yes I poured my heart out and now I can feel the pain – It does help to talk – even if to a piece of paper.
XXOO
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Yoghurt Plus – Dog Food – Review #2
02.03.10
It’s now been two weeks since Shorty was switched from his normal dog food to Yoghurt Plus.
I thought it was time for an update.
Shorty seems to enjoy the food, because it is self-serve, he seems to willingly go to the bowl and partake in the food. So that is a good sign.
What I did find interesting – was that I had the opportunity to offer the same food to 2 other small dogs, we call them Shorty’s playmates. They come for a visit on an almost daily basis. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to share the food around.
Jim, who is playmate of the morning, ate with gusto the first day of offering, again after initially refusing to eat from the bowl, but did eat a piece from my hand and the dived into the bowl of food as soon as that piece was finished. What I did find interesting is that subsequent attempts at offering the food resulted in refusal, either from my hand or the bowl. It’s been over a week now and I can’t get Jim to take any more food.
Pete, (Yes, what lovely names) playmate of the afternoon, refused all enticements. Was not interested. So we have to say that Pete did not like, regardless of attempts and methods used in an attempt to get him to eat a piece. So it’s a bit hard to comment other than to say ‘perhaps’ Pete did not like Yoghurt Plus.
Shorty seems quite content, eating his new food. I haven’t noticed any change in any aspects of his health, be it weight-wise or bad breath. It’s a bit hard to gauge his stools as we live on acreage and he just does what nature intended somewhere in the paddock, sight unseen.
I was thinking about the smell, which I found so off-putting when I opened the bag originally, I may have been put-off by the smell, because I do have slight lactose-intolerance and a dislike of milk products, as a result, as well as a very good sense of smell. My pickiness/dislike may be personal more than anything else.
Shorty seems to be managing better with the size of the pieces this week. So perhaps his initial reluctance was because the product was new and a different size to normal.
I have no problems recommending this product, as long as your dog likes it. I suppose each dog is different to his neighbour and so on and so on!
It’s now been two weeks since Shorty was switched from his normal dog food to Yoghurt Plus.
I thought it was time for an update.
Shorty seems to enjoy the food, because it is self-serve, he seems to willingly go to the bowl and partake in the food. So that is a good sign.
What I did find interesting – was that I had the opportunity to offer the same food to 2 other small dogs, we call them Shorty’s playmates. They come for a visit on an almost daily basis. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to share the food around.
Jim, who is playmate of the morning, ate with gusto the first day of offering, again after initially refusing to eat from the bowl, but did eat a piece from my hand and the dived into the bowl of food as soon as that piece was finished. What I did find interesting is that subsequent attempts at offering the food resulted in refusal, either from my hand or the bowl. It’s been over a week now and I can’t get Jim to take any more food.
Pete, (Yes, what lovely names) playmate of the afternoon, refused all enticements. Was not interested. So we have to say that Pete did not like, regardless of attempts and methods used in an attempt to get him to eat a piece. So it’s a bit hard to comment other than to say ‘perhaps’ Pete did not like Yoghurt Plus.
Shorty seems quite content, eating his new food. I haven’t noticed any change in any aspects of his health, be it weight-wise or bad breath. It’s a bit hard to gauge his stools as we live on acreage and he just does what nature intended somewhere in the paddock, sight unseen.
I was thinking about the smell, which I found so off-putting when I opened the bag originally, I may have been put-off by the smell, because I do have slight lactose-intolerance and a dislike of milk products, as a result, as well as a very good sense of smell. My pickiness/dislike may be personal more than anything else.
Shorty seems to be managing better with the size of the pieces this week. So perhaps his initial reluctance was because the product was new and a different size to normal.
I have no problems recommending this product, as long as your dog likes it. I suppose each dog is different to his neighbour and so on and so on!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Working the Ethical way
Once upon a time I worked for a large organization, so large that there were departments and each department was responsible for its own budgeting and expenditure.
My job was to invoice out existing and new clients for equipment hired. The turn-over of the equipment was quite high with the clients. They may only hire for 1,2,3 weeks, sometimes a lot longer, but generally no longer than 1-2 months.
There was also an option to purchase the equipment, which was rarely taken up by the client as they didn’t anticipate the long-term need or the overall cost.
After about 6 months, it became apparent that for some people in some instances it was cheaper for the client to purchase the equipment, so a decision was made for those clients, where it became economically viable to purchase, a note of sale was sent instead of an invoice.
This suited both parties, and allowed for more stock to be purchased and it was also found that equipment when purchased by the client, was returned to us, rather than being dumped somewhere. This was a win win for all parties concerned.
The long term effect was that this department became the most profitable, simply because they looked after the clients needs and not the needs of the business formula.
Equipment turn-over although increased, allowed for better quality equipment and equipment previously sold was returned more frequently and in better condition than hired equipment, which in turn allowed for it to be put back into circulation for new clients. Profit for that department increased by 25% in one 12 month period and grew every year I was there.
This policy is still in place today, some 5 years down the track. Due to unionisation within the site, my presence was detected and because I was contract and not a full-time employee, I was given the boot, not by my department head but by the union.
The decision to bill the client for equipment sold rather than hired, appears at first, to be cutting the profits, because you are actually reducing the income. Hire equipment is generally not treated as well, than if sold. People have an attitude. Oh well, it’s only hired, so it doesn’t matter. Whereas if they purchase an item, the attitude changes completely.
By turning over the older stock and selling it (it would have been hired anyway) the department was able to increase the quality of the stock on hand and thus please the client. By turning the stock over, we were able to buy more stock, more often and thus receive quantity discounts.
By selling stock instead of hiring it – the admin charges were reduced and then to top off all these benefits, in appreciation of the reducing the cost to the client, the client returned the favour, by returning the stock and thus saving more money again!
A win win for ALL involved!
My job was to invoice out existing and new clients for equipment hired. The turn-over of the equipment was quite high with the clients. They may only hire for 1,2,3 weeks, sometimes a lot longer, but generally no longer than 1-2 months.
There was also an option to purchase the equipment, which was rarely taken up by the client as they didn’t anticipate the long-term need or the overall cost.
After about 6 months, it became apparent that for some people in some instances it was cheaper for the client to purchase the equipment, so a decision was made for those clients, where it became economically viable to purchase, a note of sale was sent instead of an invoice.
This suited both parties, and allowed for more stock to be purchased and it was also found that equipment when purchased by the client, was returned to us, rather than being dumped somewhere. This was a win win for all parties concerned.
The long term effect was that this department became the most profitable, simply because they looked after the clients needs and not the needs of the business formula.
Equipment turn-over although increased, allowed for better quality equipment and equipment previously sold was returned more frequently and in better condition than hired equipment, which in turn allowed for it to be put back into circulation for new clients. Profit for that department increased by 25% in one 12 month period and grew every year I was there.
This policy is still in place today, some 5 years down the track. Due to unionisation within the site, my presence was detected and because I was contract and not a full-time employee, I was given the boot, not by my department head but by the union.
The decision to bill the client for equipment sold rather than hired, appears at first, to be cutting the profits, because you are actually reducing the income. Hire equipment is generally not treated as well, than if sold. People have an attitude. Oh well, it’s only hired, so it doesn’t matter. Whereas if they purchase an item, the attitude changes completely.
By turning over the older stock and selling it (it would have been hired anyway) the department was able to increase the quality of the stock on hand and thus please the client. By turning the stock over, we were able to buy more stock, more often and thus receive quantity discounts.
By selling stock instead of hiring it – the admin charges were reduced and then to top off all these benefits, in appreciation of the reducing the cost to the client, the client returned the favour, by returning the stock and thus saving more money again!
A win win for ALL involved!
Big Dog, Little Dog, Sad, Dog, Vicious Dog, Dead Dog
I am not even going to pretend I know what it’s like to be mauled by a dog – I am sorry for those that are affected.
Please don’t blame the breed of dog, blame the dog, blame the owner, BUT not the breed as a whole.
I had a Rottweiler when my first child was born. People said I would have to get rid of the dog because she (the dog) would get jealous and hurt my first born.
No – I refused to get rid of Rottweiler, instead I made an effort to incorporate that dog along with my baby into the family unit. I had my Rottweiler for a total of 14 years of which 8 years she lived side-by-side with my daughter, protected her, guarded her, pulled her pram and helped me around the house. (The dog, not the child)
The dog was known to bark when my daughter was getting up to no good, the dog would not permit people near the pram when the child was in the pram. The dog would sit between myself and the person I was having a conversation with and play verbal tennis. Her head would go from speaker to speaker, listening/watching the people and the conversation.
This dog was truly a member of the family, she was socialized, she was well-adjusted, she was loved and most of all she loved.
Dogs, just like children need discipline. Dogs need to know that you are the master. Once the pecking order has been established, they understand where they stand in their ‘society’ as they see it.
Dogs, just like people, have the good, the bad and ugly. The causes could be upbringing, genetics, all sorts of events that can cause trauma. Sometimes a dog will instinctively try and protect itself, not mean any harm but do harm inadvertently.
Other times a dog will just lose the plot, just like humans; again, genetics, upbringing, illness, old age.
Children SHOULD NEVER be left alone with a dog of ANY size, I’ve been attacked by terriers and poodles, yet have not been attacked by Rottweilers, Ridgebacks or German Shepherds. Often this is because the owners of large dogs acknowledge their responsibility in that owning a big dog requires that dog to be disciplined and controlled at all times.
Often you will find that dogs which do attack, are dogs that belong to young males, who ‘rough’ them up for a bit of fun, teach them to attack cats and similar small animals, simply for the thrill of controlling another animal.
These dogs are often un-socialised and allowed to rot in the backyard until it is time for some entertainment by the owner.
Dogs do get jealous, dogs do get lonely, dogs do feel pain, dogs do feel panic, dogs do feel aggression. They may not be able to express these feelings and many people can’t read these feelings in animals, but they do feel them and often display these with ear movements, tail location and even lip movements.
It is not the dogs fault as a general rule – more often than not, it is a human’s fault, for allowing unsuitable dogs to breed OR not socializing animals, or not integrating them into the new family properly.
All non-breeding animals should be de-sexed, it should be compulsory for all dog owners to get a license, something like a drivers license, to permit the ownership of animals, and if an animal kills another animal or human, then the dog should be euthanized immediately. No court rooms, no argument, If your dog kills, due to your lack of care and responsibility then you and the dog are punished. Then IF the owner of the dog can be located, they are banned from owning a dog for 10 years and the ‘license’ revoked, pending a new application in 10 years time.
These thoughts and ideas are mine alone, but sometimes, once again, common sense needs to be re-introduced into society. Without common sense, many things go wrong which could cause devestation to a family.
Take care.
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