When I was a kid we had a neighbor who had about a dozen dogs, always fighting our dogs and eating our dog food. We kept our dogs home as much as we could and always tried to do unto others as we’d want others to do to us. But the neighbors didn’t see it that way.
Mr. Cash had a big ole dog, half Saint Bernard and half hippo. He crapped like a Hereford bull and he weighed as much as a man and he was a real chaser too. He chased cars, pickups, and motorcycles, as well as cats and other dogs, he chased everything I reckon.
I rode motorcycles a lot when I was a kid and he’d always chase me. One day I decided to try to disappoint him and drive by real slow. But that didn’t work either. He kinda looked confused there for a minute and didn’t know what to do, but he finally remembered and grabbed a hold of my britches and put on the brakes. He slid for about 10 ft and then I heard my britches rip. That sorry critter ripped a 10” gash in my new wranglers. I was ticked off!
That dog was a bully too, he whipped up on our Aussie shepherd dogs a lot and we developed a strong dislike for him.
I felt sorry for our dogs but no amount of pleading with Mr. Cash would persuade him to tie his dogs up.
We decided to put the dog food in one of those big galvanized trash cans with a good tight lid because they kept getting into the plastic ones we tried to use. They’d knock it over and the lid would pop off and they’d drag the sack of feed across the yard and eat everything they didn’t scatter.
Well I read a story somewhere, that some old man loaded rock salt in some shotgun shells to pepper thieves that were stealing his watermelons. So I had me an idea. I pried open the crimps on some 410 shotgun shells and dumped out the BB’s and replaced them with some rock salt we kept for making ice cream.
Those dogs learned that if they jumped up on that galvanized can and pushed it over that the lid would pop off just like the plastic ones did.
So one night I got my single shot .410 out that I got passed down to me from my grand- pa and I stuck one of them homemade rock salt shotgun shells in, and thought I’d teach them dogs a lesson.
About 2am they came because our dogs started fussing, I looked out the window and big Brutus leading the pack. He jumped up on that can and beings he was as big as he was, that can just fell over with ease and popped the lid off.
There was a moon and I could see real good, so I slipped out the other door and made my way to the corner of the house where I had a good clear shot. I lined up and pulled the hammer back and touched it off more or less into the middle of that pack of dogs. That little gun bucked like a mule and dogs scattered and yelped every which way. I figured that would teach em. Well big Brutus didn’t run he just stayed there, so I went to hunting another shell and must’ve dropped it, so I went back into the house for a flashlight.
I retraced my steps and found my shell. I came to the corner of the house and I shined that flashlight but I must’ve used Himalayan rock salt… because when I found Brutus; Himalayan right where I shot… Forever! He was expired.
That story I read didn’t say nothing about rock salt being as hard as lead shot at close range. So I gathered up Brutus and hauled him off.
The sun was coming up and I’d had me a long night. I’d not much more than got back into bed when dad came in to roust me out for school. He asked me if I was shooting at a skunk or what in the night. I told him what happened and he had a good laugh, but momma not so much, she insisted I go tell Mr. Cash what I had done. So off I went.
I knocked on the door and Mr. Cash came out. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I killed his dog, but instead I told him that I found their dog dead in our yard. I told him I hauled him off already as I didn’t want to wait until it warmed up and he went to stinking.
When Mr. Cash asked me what happened, I wasn’t exactly truthful, so I told him maybe it was just something he ate.
I kinda figured he knew, because they kept their dogs home and tied up after that.
