fandomsecrets | [ SECRET POST #2580 ]

⌈ Secret Post #2580 ⌋

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

LOL! I've actually lived both in Rural Texas and in Houston.

But yeah...hmm. Well, I'll tell you about the time I woke up to goat slaughter since that's the one people are usually the most interested in.

Now, for context, we'd for all intents and purposes been given a small herd of 8 pygmy goats and a smaller herd of 3 feral llamas by our neighbor since he's "get rich quick!" schemes with them didn't work and they spent most of their time grazing on our land anyways.

So, we [my grandmother and I] got up one Sunday morning like we always do and started going about the morning routine of feeding, watering and the rest. One of the first parts of the routine was to go to the front porch and refill a water bowl we left out there for the stray cats and the various dogs that had a habit of coming to visit*. Only this time it was a little different since there was blood floating in the water. This was a little disconcerting, but at the same time a lot of animals come and hide out on our porch when they're hurt so we'd just assumed that had been the case and cleaned out the bowl and continued with our daily stuff while keeping an eye out just in case the animal was still around.

The next sign something was wrong was when only 3 of the 8 goats met us at the gate. Generally they'd all be up there because "hey, breakfast time, damnit!" and even if it hadn't been, chances are they'd be hanging around somewhere in sight since goats tend to be kind of like cats and on the curious side of things. So, while my grandmother handled the ones at the gate I went looking for the ones who hadn't shown up just to make sure they weren't getting into anything they shouldn't.

That's when I found the goat bodies. I won't burden you the gory description, but safe to say it was obvious that something - either coyotes or the local feral dog pack- had hunted them the night before, and whatever it was, it hadn't been interested in eating. After seeing this, I decided to go further back and check on the llamas. The two llamas that were still alive were a bit more standoffish than usual, but the dead one made it pretty clear who was responsible for the whole thing, seeing as the dog pack happened to include a Great Dane.

So I went back up to let my grandmother know what happened and we went and walked the fence to see where they might have gotten in. From the best we could tell, it had been through the neighbor [who'd given us the animals in the first place]'s property, so we gritted our teeth and started over to talk to him, which we'd have to do in any case since he'd never formally transferred the animals to us and were still listed as belonging to him.

When we got into his drive way we noticed that his door was open, so we stopped and decided to call the county Sheriff - just in case it wasn't just the animals that had been attacked. We explained the situation and a deputy drove out and ended up waking the neighbor up before talking to him about what'd happened. Next thing that we hear from either of them, the neighbor was informed that he was legally required to bury the animals and that he'd hired someone to bring a backhoe out and bury the carcasses.

*There's a reason people say you don't need to buy a dog if you live out in the Texas countryside.

tl;dr: We had a bunch of animals killed by a feral dog pack on our land, then the animals' owner hired a backhoe to bury them.

If that's not exactly what you wanted, I could tell you about some of the more interesting stuff I've found while walking the boundaries [of my other grandparents' rather large] property?

Our neighbor's dogs used to kill our goats all the time. They were little dogs too, not great danes. It didn't matter how many times we called the cops on them, because we lived out in the county, not in the city limits so the cops didn't give a shit. Our neighbors on both sides had lots of dogs that killed our cats, dogs, goats, chickens, tried attacking my brothers and I. It was bad to the point that my dad had to poison the dogs because the sheriff wouldn't do anything about it. This was a thing that actually happened.

One time our horse broke into our house (like, he literally kicked down the door for some reason) and pooped all over and I came home from school and had to spend an entire night cleaning it up. This was a thing that happened too.

man, I guess i got stories too. hmm

Sounds like! We were lucky that most of the dogs in the pack weren't actually feral [like the Great Dane belonged to someone across the street from us], but that's mostly likely because people around there tended to raise livestock for a living so any actual feral dogs tended to end up getting shot not long after they showed up - or the coyotes would go after them.

Occasionally we [when I was staying with my other grandparents] also got to call the Deputies out because some dumbass would start sneaking onto our property to hunt, which is why we had to walk to boundaries on a regular basis. Particularly since the jackasses were more likely to end up hitting a cow than they were any of the local deer.

[ SECRET POST #2580 ]

Re: Rural Texas living, myths (ancient Greek, rural American, and some Native American)

Re: Rural Texas living, myths (ancient Greek, rural American, and some Native American)

Re: Rural Texas living, myths (ancient Greek, rural American, and some Native American)