The week my husband fell, there were two pit bulls on the loose in our neighborhood.
Or were there?
They were said to be running around loose, "terrorizing some." They were brown and black. They had been captured alive. They had both been shot. Or one had been shot and another ran away. There was more than one pair. They had collars. They didn't have collars. They were on Kensington. Or they were on Court, and then they were on Windemere, and then causing trouble on Interstate 475. They roamed and threatened at 7:30 a.m. and after dark, literally dogging us and agitating our fears.
As one homeowner posted, "Grrr ... all these darn pitbull posts have me terrified."
And in response to a handful of break-ins and home invasions, a number of fine ladies of the 'hood signed up for gun training, an impulse I can barely stand to contemplate.
I do get the urge for revenge. I have my own fantasies of what I'd like to do to some of the petty thugs preying our streets, but REALLY? Is that how we resolve our neighborhood woes — to arm ourselves with little pink Derringers?Read it all here.