For those of my Gentle Readers who don't get the above quote, it's from the best Science Fiction series that no-one ever watched: Firefly. The preacher, Shepherd actually, named Book tells Captain Malcolm Reynolds that if he takes sexual advantage of a woman, he will go to a "Special level of hell, one reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theatre."
Well, I'm fairly sure that the "special level" is also going to be populated with those invertebrates who decide that it's a good idea to drive out into the boonies and abandon the family pet.
Nothing quite as heartbreaking as driving down a dirt road 40 miles from the backside of Nowhere and finding an obvious family pet running down the road in a panic, looking for his family.
And I don't want to hear the excuses. Anyone who thinks that a dog would be happier in the wild, hasn't stumbled across what's left of the family dog after a pack of coyotes gets done with it. More than once I've followed buzzard sign or coyote sign, to find a gutted house-pet, dying in agony.
I didn't take that dog to raise, but I'm the one who has to give it a mercy shot, because his owner is a chicken-s*** excuse for a man; and I'm getting very tired of it.
I used to have five dogs slobbering on various stuff in the house: a Chihuahua, three cowmutts and a bullmastiff -- all of which I've found abandoned in the boonies. I'm pretty sure the first four were dumped because they are female, and the catamites who owned them were too sodding lazy to get them neutered, but didn't want puppies. The bullmastiff got dumped -- well, he was a bullmastiff and weighed in at about 180 pounds.
That dog ate a hell of a lot of food, and the nutless wonder who took him decided that he'd be happier out on the caprock, which coincidentally, would mean that the nutless wonder wouldn't have to cough up money for kibble every month.
I speak of him in the past tense, because after 11 very full, very happy years of being mauled, ridden like a horse, gnawed on, dressed up, chased, whispered to, slept on, and snuggled to a fare-thee-well by various children and other family members, my beloved bullmastiff passed on. He was a house-dog to the very end, and he left a very large, very slobber-free hole around here.
I used to think that I'd like to run across the nutless wonder who dumped that dog, just so I could impress on them what a loving, loyal, devoted creature they deliberately abandoned, but these days I think the nutless wonder just needs to go to hell.
Anyhoo, I was driving down a dirt road a while ago when I spotted a large buff-coloured puppy running frantically down the bar-ditch, looking desperately at each vehicle going by.
Another bloody huge, sweet-natured, mastiff-y mutt has taken up residence. The children are delighted, the other dogs less so.
And he's decided that the leg area under my computer desk is his den. 70 pounds and not grown yet.
I hope the person who dumped him enjoys his stay in the special level of hell.