Just Like Waziristan
The afternoon quiet of the neighborhood was shattered by the screams of a dog in distress last week. A couple of minutes later my daughter called the bruig to report that she drove past the source of the screams and saw a pit bull mauling a schnauzer as the horrified owner held the schnauzer on leash in her own yard. When I got off the phone I looked down the street and watched a young hip-hop gangsta drag the pit bull
back to it's yard, chain the dog and beat it with a golf club. I shook my head and waited for animal control or the police to arrive. But no-one came.
My daughter talked to the lady whose dog was mauled the next day, it was not the first attack by this pit bull. Four months earlier the dog attacked another dog being walked on a leash in the street and damn near killed it. In my mind I saw a dangerous pattern emerging.
I had vowed years earlier that I would never allow my neighborhood to become an east LA shithole run by sociopaths. I wouldn't run to a McMansion in a gated community to escape the soft terrorism of dope dealers, gangs and pit bulls.
Over the years I had stood up to teenage punks, ankle-braceletted felons and other miscreants that moved into this quiet neighborhood after the original residents died, moved or divorced. It looked like I was going to have to get involved again.
I had already had words with the teenagers that lived at this location regarding antisocial behavior. Their mother was rarely home and the boyfriend imposed little or no discipline, so speaking with either seemed pointless.
I spoke with both women whose dogs were mauled and learned that the police and animal control refused to get involved. It was a civil matter. This didn't sound right so I called my city councilmen. Both were perplexed by this information but assured me that they would look into the matter if I provided specific details.
I interviewed both women again and recorded their stories. Both mentioned drug activity during the discussions and suggested that I speak with other neighbors.
In subsequent interviews neighbors reported that ever since the boyfriend was paroled from prison and the pit bull showed up they had witnessed drug use and drug deals at all hours of the day and night. This information was disturbing.
I provided the results of my interviews to city councilmen who assured me that they would look into the situation. But I didn't feel a sense of urgency so I tried to
reach out to the police. I was stunned when the police showed little interest. The police would only get involved after someone was mauled by the dog or shot in a drug deal gone bad.
The police stated that there was a strong correlation between the presence of pit bulls and drug activity. The rule of thumb went like this, 90% of the time they found vicious pit bulls there also was drug sales at any given location. There was just too much of this in the city for police to respond to every complaint.
The neighbor of the paroled felon told me that their 87 year old mother who lived with them was afraid to go outside because the pit bull constantly tried to climb the fence to attack her. She had trouble sleeping because of the marijuana smoke drifting in her window and the incessant loud hip hop music that pounded into her room. How could this happen in a civilized community?
I called a friend on the local drug interdiction team and explained the situation. He was sympathetic and suggested that I have neighbors call him to lodge complaints about drug activity. Response from neighbors was lukewarm as many said that "the police won't do anything" or they didn't want to get involved.
I always have wondered how neighborhoods fall into crime-ridden ghettos. Now I see the mechanism clearly. No one wants to get involved. People either make accommodations or just move into an expensive neighborhood and hope the trouble won't follow.
It seems that the progressives have won. Diversity rules. Selling and using dope and keeping a vicious dog is just a diverse lifestyle to be accepted. Paroled felons are people who have paid their debt and should be embraced as diverse neighbors. Learn to like the loud hip hop music and maybe drop into a after midnight party in the front yard and smoke some weed with your new neighbor. Learn bout this new country that has been founded.
Like many of my neighbors, I've parked the Remington 870 by the door to deal with the pit bull and have told my family to watch out for dope deals. Some get ugly and you don't want to get caught in the crossfire. My big dog patrols the perimeter and
guards the house at night. I consider getting a baby grizzly bear as my next pet to trump the pit bull and ponder effective deployment of claymore mines as the neighborhood becomes east LA.
America is becoming a cesspool. Soon I'll be shouldering a shotgun as I accompany my grandson as he rides his bicycle around the court. Just like Waziristan.
back to it's yard, chain the dog and beat it with a golf club. I shook my head and waited for animal control or the police to arrive. But no-one came.
My daughter talked to the lady whose dog was mauled the next day, it was not the first attack by this pit bull. Four months earlier the dog attacked another dog being walked on a leash in the street and damn near killed it. In my mind I saw a dangerous pattern emerging.
I had vowed years earlier that I would never allow my neighborhood to become an east LA shithole run by sociopaths. I wouldn't run to a McMansion in a gated community to escape the soft terrorism of dope dealers, gangs and pit bulls.
Over the years I had stood up to teenage punks, ankle-braceletted felons and other miscreants that moved into this quiet neighborhood after the original residents died, moved or divorced. It looked like I was going to have to get involved again.
I had already had words with the teenagers that lived at this location regarding antisocial behavior. Their mother was rarely home and the boyfriend imposed little or no discipline, so speaking with either seemed pointless.
I spoke with both women whose dogs were mauled and learned that the police and animal control refused to get involved. It was a civil matter. This didn't sound right so I called my city councilmen. Both were perplexed by this information but assured me that they would look into the matter if I provided specific details.
I interviewed both women again and recorded their stories. Both mentioned drug activity during the discussions and suggested that I speak with other neighbors.
In subsequent interviews neighbors reported that ever since the boyfriend was paroled from prison and the pit bull showed up they had witnessed drug use and drug deals at all hours of the day and night. This information was disturbing.
I provided the results of my interviews to city councilmen who assured me that they would look into the situation. But I didn't feel a sense of urgency so I tried to
reach out to the police. I was stunned when the police showed little interest. The police would only get involved after someone was mauled by the dog or shot in a drug deal gone bad.
The police stated that there was a strong correlation between the presence of pit bulls and drug activity. The rule of thumb went like this, 90% of the time they found vicious pit bulls there also was drug sales at any given location. There was just too much of this in the city for police to respond to every complaint.
The neighbor of the paroled felon told me that their 87 year old mother who lived with them was afraid to go outside because the pit bull constantly tried to climb the fence to attack her. She had trouble sleeping because of the marijuana smoke drifting in her window and the incessant loud hip hop music that pounded into her room. How could this happen in a civilized community?
I called a friend on the local drug interdiction team and explained the situation. He was sympathetic and suggested that I have neighbors call him to lodge complaints about drug activity. Response from neighbors was lukewarm as many said that "the police won't do anything" or they didn't want to get involved.
I always have wondered how neighborhoods fall into crime-ridden ghettos. Now I see the mechanism clearly. No one wants to get involved. People either make accommodations or just move into an expensive neighborhood and hope the trouble won't follow.
It seems that the progressives have won. Diversity rules. Selling and using dope and keeping a vicious dog is just a diverse lifestyle to be accepted. Paroled felons are people who have paid their debt and should be embraced as diverse neighbors. Learn to like the loud hip hop music and maybe drop into a after midnight party in the front yard and smoke some weed with your new neighbor. Learn bout this new country that has been founded.
Like many of my neighbors, I've parked the Remington 870 by the door to deal with the pit bull and have told my family to watch out for dope deals. Some get ugly and you don't want to get caught in the crossfire. My big dog patrols the perimeter and
guards the house at night. I consider getting a baby grizzly bear as my next pet to trump the pit bull and ponder effective deployment of claymore mines as the neighborhood becomes east LA.
America is becoming a cesspool. Soon I'll be shouldering a shotgun as I accompany my grandson as he rides his bicycle around the court. Just like Waziristan.
posted by lugh lampfhota at 5:07 AM
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