Tonight, I felt sorry for you boys and your parents. Sorry that you've never known the compassion and intelligence of an animal. So sorry, because tonight I sat beside Jesse, my pot-bellied pig. He's 17 years old now and not in good health. As I stroked his face and told him how much I loved him, he took my hand gently in his mouth and grunted softly. Now Jesse has two-inch tusks in his mouth. It would be like putting your hand in a tree shredder. He has love and compassion for me and the intelligence to know he could hurt me -- something you boys don't seem to have and were never taught by your parents.
The cats you tried to kill at my place -- two of them were born in a 50-gallon water barrel, on top of a rolled-up piece of chicken wire. The mother had tried to shred a plastic garbage bag to make a soft bed for her babies -- again a sign of love, compassion and intelligence. Something you boys don't seem to have and were never taught by your parents.
One day, I heard all kinds of commotion in my yard, I looked out and the three turkeys were wing-to-wing in a line and had the chickens all pushed up against the fence, protecting them from a chicken hawk up above, as the geese screeched and flapped their wings to scare it off.
Again, love, compassion and intelligence, which you boys don't seem to have and were never taught by your parents.
This is animal country in Pine and Strawberry. We all have several dogs, a couple horses, some chickens and if we have a barn where we keep the feed for these animals, we're grateful to the cats who keep the field mice out of the feed.
Maybe your folks need to come over to my place and be taught by my pets how to raise you kids -- with love and compassion so we won't have wife-beaters or mass murderers in our little communities.
Parents, check their beds late at night. These kids are still out there doing these things, just later at night. Cats are still being killed, cars are being keyed and explosions are being set. Watch your kids, because I have a shotgun and I'm watching out for mine.
Rena Rogers, Pine
Editor's note: We debated whether or not delete the last line of this letter because it represents a sentiment that has been expressed in numerous letters -- some that we could not print. They contained threats or were anonymous. Clearly, this circumstance has angered people, but we would ask readers to be reasonable in their expression of opinion in this matter.