I have been gone since beginning of last week. Rex and I were sent to recon some rumors in "the sticks".
There had been stories in the news, newspaper and TV, about some killings in central Missouri. Word got around amongst weredogs that the killings were of puppy mill owners. Rumors started to run that it was werewolves.
Now, I am no fan of puppy mills. Most of the people who run them are lower than puppy poop. But, it was decided that if werewolves are hitting puppy mills, killing people, even if they have it coming, then it is our job to look into it, and probably to stop it.
We met at the largest attended Grand Pack Meeting that I can recall in a long time. There were more than a few dogs who argued to let the werewolves deal out the justice. But, even if we could turn a blind eye to werewolves killing humans, we could not ignore the possibility of wide-scale werewolf recruitment. If they are adopting all these puppies they liberate, and converting and indoctrinating them to the ways of the werewolf, then that is a situation we must address.
So, of course, it was decided that Rex and I go check it out. I always feel bad when I take off for a few days. Sherry and the boys worry, a lot. And it's a bit embarrassing to come back to see my face plastered to every telephone and light pole for a two mile radius.
Just to be clear, there is no good puppy mill. Doesn't exist. There are good breeders. But, mills are not run by honest breeders. Want to see what a puppy mills is about? Click here. There are worse vids online to be found. But, worse than this and you might want to hut someone. If you are a weredog, that's a bad idea. I don't want to spark that.
Anyway, Rex and I sniffed around for a week, until Sunday night, until we finally crossed a scent. It wasn't wolf. It was human, a pack of them. We came up on them at night, late, in position around a puppy mill south of Jeff City. They were tactical, wore all black and carried weapons.
Forget the movies. Weredogs and werewolves can be killed with lead bullets. So, Rex and I went into tactical mode ourselves. We located and moved up behind the control group. There were five of them, in a cluster in trees, on a small rise above the house. Lights were on in the house. We listened long enough to learn that they were divided on how to proceed. A young woman, who smelled of bacon, was arguing not to harm the people in the house. A young man, who smell of anger, was arguing that they had it coming, just like the others. An older man, who I picked to be the official leader, was torn. His confusion was palpable.
We allowed them to sense us. We came in slow, hands in sight. "What are you doing here?" the woman asked. The young man was eyeing us suspiciously. I gave him a good sniffing. No wolf.
We said we were there for the same thing, to free the puppies. They were surprised, but happy for the extra tails, so to speak. "Why don't you have weapons?" said the young man."
"Don't need weapons when you got teeth," said Rex. The young man smiled. I jammed an elbow into Rex's ribs, hard.
"Our one condition," said Rex, "is that no one gets hurt." The older man agreed.
The old couple in the house were no trouble. They were scared. They had heard about the recent killings and did not want to end up same. Afterward we went for an early breakfast with our new crew of friends.
Here is a pic of one of the rescued puppies.
More later.
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