One day last week, when I was saddling up after a swim, I saw a little girl nearby, maybe ten or eleven, and I paused to ask what she was doing.
As she looked down, the lass shyly replied that she was trying to free tiny fish that had gotten marooned in a small tidal pool. She was trying to dig a little canal in the sand to free them. Rather than trudge back across the beach with my bike as I normally do, I stopped to help. Without another word the child returned to her mother who was shelling just a few steps away.
In this blog I do not mention the almost daily accounts in our local newspaper about sexual abuse of children because it is so depressing and seemingly pervasive (today it was a “father” in Englewood raping and molesting his four-year-old). Parents read the newspapers. Understandably, and wisely, they have instructed their kids to not talk to strangers, to not reply to strangers, and above all, to not trust strangers. I understand all that, but alas. . . . Such is life in our crime-ridden modern world where pedos seem to rule the streets.
I totally understand the motives of these caring, concerned parents. Such despicable acts committed by the monsters in our midst has almost totally shut off all communication between adults and kids and deprived the rest of us of the simple pleasure of enjoying the children around us. I have always found joy in talking to most kids. But most kids do not talk anymore. This is just another casualty of lax laws, liberal “if it feels good, do it” un-think and raw, raunchy, rampant porn consumed by those who cannot separate fantasy from reality.
Don’t Go Near the Water. . . or the Land, Either—Although lot’s of Florida folks are losing arms, legs and hands to gators, all seemed pretty quiet on the pit bull front . . . until yesterday.
Up at Panama City, 43-year-old Laura Miller was attacked by a pit bull at the veterinary clinic where she works. By the time staffers responded to the screams, they found the blood-thirsty dog with Laura’s mangled arm in his mouth. The animal was shaking it violently, as if trying to destroy the last quiver of life in the limb.
I must say: I really do hate pit bulls. And I really do hate the sad excuses for human beings that feel compelled to keep pit bulls. True, I understand that much of the vicious animal’s behavior stems from the behavior of the vicious animal’s vicious owner. True, I also understand that good-spirited owners might raise a kinder, gentler dog. But these slight understandings are where my understanding ends. Good folks might ameliorate somewhat the pit bulls hard-wiring for violence and murder, but they can never short circuit it. It is always there and will manifest itself when least expected, like the proverbial bolt from the blue. That’s why folks who have raised these beasts from pups are so stunned when one of these trusted and loved “family members” suddenly turns and tears one of the kids to tatters. They have not beaten or mistreated the dog; they have not trained it for fighting or aggressive behavior. They, in their minds, have done everything right. Hence the utter surprise and shock when their mutt goes postal.
Thought--Just ONCE I would like to report that instead of someone totally innocent being mauled by pits, that someone totally guilty had been attacked by a pit bull, say some rapist or pedophile fleeing the scene of a rape or pedo crime who is attacked and torn limb from limb by two pit bulls. But nope, these vicious creatures are always attacking someone totally innocent, whether it be a child, a seeing-eye dog that has faithfully safeguarded the steps of a blind man for twenty years or whether it be a 95-year-old woman out taking her morning constitutional.