An English In Kentucky


















October 6th 2010    Tim Candler

    Trouble in the garden.  Moles of course.  Dry weather.  And Beagles chasing Rabbit.  It might not matter so much if the wretched little creatures had no bark.   If they sleuthed silently in pursuit of their prey in the manner of four legged snakes.  But they do not, and the urge to shoot them quarantines me.

    I have read of incidents between neighbors.  I recall one account of neighbors made murderous over a yard or so of land and a mowing machine.   At the time I thought the account exaggerated.  On this most imperfect day I have come to the realization that soon now I will be on the dock, explaining to the magistrate why five Beagles were discovered hanging from their tails on walls of the barn.

    "Your honor," I will say, "I hung them there as a warning to others of their kind."  And in the audience awaiting the magistrates opinion tearful Beagle owners will hiss, as I wonder at the penalty.  A hundred dollars a Beagle.  Community service in a dog shelter.  Meat handling classes.  Time in the county jail. 

      On the silver lining however, I now have my question next time the sheriff asks for my vote.

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