During the summer, we got a new neighbor. He was a horrible man. He was a gun-slinging, bible-thumping individual if I've ever seen one. He once threatened to kill Glenn because of his haircut. I told him, "If you kill Glenn, you better make plans for me to kill you!" He never threatened to kill Glenn after that. I wish I could say that was the worst thing he did. One day, Glenn was visiting with me. I went outside for something, and the nasty neighbor took his shotgun and shot me in the upper thigh. I fell to the ground, and I was in a lot of pain. My aunt and uncle rushed out. My uncle took the gun away from that jerk and pointed it at him. My aunt said, "Hold it right there!" The nasty neighbor said, "Watch it! That thing's loaded!" My uncle shot it in the air, gave it back to the nasty neighbor and said, "Now it ain't loaded!" My aunt said, "Next time, it's not going to be up in the air!" Glenn saw the whole thing. He was crushed to see that I was hurt. I was taken to the hospital. I never lost consciousness. The doctor said, "The bullet's not in very deep. We'll just carefully remove it, and we'll keep you for a few days to see how you do." After the bullet was removed, he said, "You're a brave girl, you know." I smiled. Later, I heard a knock on the door. I said, "Come in." It was Joann. I said, "Hi, Joann. Come on in." She said, "Glenn told me what happened. Are you okay?" I said, "I'm just fine. It was just the upper thigh. I'm unable to get up and walk, and I hurt, but I'm all right." She said, "I'm glad." I cracked a few jokes. Joann knew that if I could still joke around, I must be okay. Glenn visited with me, too. He even took care of my dogs for me. I was sent home, and I soon made a complete recovery. I still have a scar to this day. Shortly after I was able to walk properly, I took my dogs: Diesel the Husky, Sadie the Labrador, Fluffy the Collie, and Roxy the Pit Bull. Glenn took his dog, Oliver the Dachshund. I suddenly heard whimpering sounds. I checked my dogs, and they were fine. I asked, "Glenn, is that Oliver?" Glenn said, "No." I then saw a Rottweiler puppy limping toward us. I said, "Aw! A puppy!" The puppy came up to us and licked our legs. I said, "I think he likes us." Glenn asked, "How do you know it's a boy?" I said, "There are ways." The pup allowed me to look at his hurt paw. It was in bad shape. My aunt and uncle and I took him to our vet. There were no tags, no collar, and no microchip. We got some puppy supplies and decided to keep him. I named him Stone. After Stone's injury healed, he became protective of me and my friends. One day, Joann was visiting with me. She was sitting in the yard, and the nasty neighbor's dog came into the yard. I don't remember the dog's name, but Glenn called him Sir Barks a Lot. Sir Barks a Lot was a Yorkshire Terrier, or Yorkie. He barked at everything. It got all my dogs, save for Stone barking. Diesel only barked when Sir Barks a Lot had his barking fit. Anyway, the day Joann visited with me, Sir Barks a Lot came into the yard and bit her in the face. Out of nowhere, Stone came and snarled at Sir Barks a Lot. Sir Barks a Lot backed away in submission, and Stone was a puppy then! Stone then licked Joann's wound. I helped her clean the wound while my uncle confronted the nasty neighbor. He said, "You better have proof your dog is up to date on his shots!" The nasty neighbor had proof. My uncle said, "If this happens again, we're going to have serious problems." The nasty neighbor never bothered us again, but he still wasn't a good neighbor.
I haven't written any articles on my fan club in a while. I felt like writing a eulogy about my dog, Fluffy. Fluffy was my second female dog. I remember when I got her. My aunt and uncle and I were visiting with my grandmother's sister in Florida. One of her neighbors happened to be breeding Smooth Collie puppies. I took one of them home with me, and I named her Fluffy for the sake of being ironic. She was the most vocal of all the dogs I've had. She was also very motherly. When we adopted Roxy, my Pit Bull, Fluffy accepted the pup as her own. She did the same with my Rottweiler, Stone, and with my newest dog, River. When my first dog, Diesel, passed away, Fluffy grieved more than the other dogs, save for Sadie, my Labrador. Fluffy grieved really hard when we lost Sadie a year ago. Fluffy was really smart, too. She knew hundreds of words and phrases, and I cannot possibly name all of them. I miss her very much, and so does everyone else. I'll never forget her. May she rest in peace.