The Sweet Smell of Summer in Appalachia

Yes, with the warm weather comes the common smell of summer in Appalachia. I'm not talking about flowers, or farms, I mean burning garbage. A large proportion of the people in Appalachian Kentucky have not advanced beyond burning all their household trash. Of course they are advanced enough to know that the Commonwealth has passed laws against such practices (unfortunately, they have forgotten to tell their law enforcement officers, such is Kentucky). The result is that as night falls, and darkness settles over the hills, so to does the pleasant aroma of burning milk bottles, trash bags, diapers, used furniture, and whatever else the people here no longer have a use for. So much for peaceful Appalachian nights.

Redneck pet owners, part 2

My other neighbor has apparently found a more effective way to deal with dogs that he doesn't want anymore. A couple of gunshots and problem solved. Well, at least I have one less problem animal to worry about. Now, if I can get the law to do anything about him discharging firearms within 100 feet of my house I'd be all set. But, since he is the law, and this is Appalachian Kentucky, it's a moot point.

Redneck pet owners

After 2 weeks, I finally got my neighbors dog to take food from me. It probably helped that he hadn't been fed in 3 days.

About 3 years ago the white trash next door got a dog. Of course a large one, who stayed on a 10 foot chain his entire life. I suspect the reason he was kept around had to do with the fact that this particular neighbor only lived there 1 or 2 nights a week, but would show up half a dozen times per day for 30 minutes at a time. That and the fact that there were extension cords running to the crawl space under his trailer made me kind of suspicious. About 3 months ago the cords disappeared, and the dog was turned loose. The owner now shows up every couple of days. Of course he's a problem animal. Spending his nights taking everything from my property onto his owners. Potted plants, tools, basically everything that's not nailed down, ripping stuff up. He looks like he'd have been a good dog, but 3 years on a leash with no attention have turned his brain to mush. When you finally get a dog close enough to touch and his first reaction is to get the shakes, you know there's an owner who should be doing time for animal cruelty.

In a civilized country, I could call animal control. But animal control here won't talk to me, I don't have any kin. Quoting Kentucky law on stray animals only gets me transferred to the judge executive, who will quote Jesus, and protect the good ole boy network (at least the bastard got voted out, so the good ole boys might be losing a bit of their grip on the county). Talking to the neighbor will just get my tires slashed in the middle of the night. Rednecks are nothing if not consistent. So, I need to deal with this myself. The question is, now that I have a new friend, what do I do with him? Since he has no tags and the owner only shows up at his place every couple of days for a 30 minute visit, I feel morally justified in treating him as a stray, but if I take him to animal control, they'll just shoot him, probably the same night. Rednecks don't like anything that causes work. It is an interesting problem.