Nylon leash that the pit bull broke:
How did the pit bull get out of her yard on the day of the second mauling? Here's Ron's metal gate compromised, probably by Ron:
After the first mauling, but before the second mauling, Ron told my mother that he did not like Garth barking at his dogs. I can't believe the nerve Ron has, and I believe this is his motive to try and kill Garth. I believe that both maulings were premeditated.
How did the pit bull get in our yard for the second mauling? Someone (probably Ron) also compromised our gate, but in a different way. We put a heavy chain all around our gate so that no animal can get through that gate again:
This is where Ron's dogs get out:
The pit bull is supposed to be tethered so it cannot get out, but this photo clearly shows the pit bull not tethered. In fact the pit bull is rarely tethered:
At some point, Garth was transfered from the emergency vet's to our normal veterinarian's office. Garth was there until October 27th, which is when he came back home.
Garth back from the vet:
Garth's leg all chewed up:
Close-up of leg:
Garth was in very bad shape, and could hardly walk. His legs had been bitten a lot. I wish I had bloody photos of Garth when he was mauled on October 18th. I do have photos of large blood stains however. Garth had almost no appetite and I had to drag him outside so that he could do his business in the front yard. On October 29th, my mom called our vet and told them that Garth was not doing very well at all. They told her to stop his antibiotics and painkillers, and to start his anti-nausea medication. She followed their advice, but we should have brought him to the vet's office regardless of their advice. On the night of October 29th, Garth was off the painkillers, and he had a very desperate look in his eyes that I will never forget. He was obviously in a lot of pain.
On the morning of October 30th, shortly after starting his anti-nausea medication, Garth stopped breathing and passed away. By the time my mom and sister woke me up, my family was in the process of taking Garth's body to his burial. My mom drove us up to a rural part of a small city on the way up to California's Sierra Nevada mountain range. We went up there with church members from my mom's church. A friend of our family used a backhoe to dig a 6 foot deep grave for Garth in a matter of minutes. It was the first time I had noticed how cool backhoes were. Someone said a prayer, and that was the extent of Garth's simple burial. We all drove back to our hometown, and that was that.
On Sunday, October 31st, 2010, I woke up crying. It was the first time I had cried in about 5 years. I took a shower and cried in the shower. I decided to go to my mother's 12-step church meeting because I had to get out of the house. It was the first church meeting of any kind I had been to in 11 years, not counting my father's funeral. By the way, my father died on January 4th, 2004. I went to his funeral which took place at a church. I did not cry at his funeral. In fact I have never cried about my father's death nor my grandmother's death from back in 2006. But I have cried a few times concerning Garth's death.
The pit bull and the puppy roaming the neighborhood, which happens frequently:
The city I live in decided to put a fire hydrant in our yard. When they did that, they left a hole in the chain link fence:
Close-up of hole in fence:
Here's the fire hydrant and the plugged up hole. The city was quick to plug up the hole:
If you're still reading this, you have seen some messed-up bloody photos. I would like to finish this post with some photos of our living pets to cleanse your visual palate.
Close-up of Tigress, the Tabby cat:
Sleepy Tigress:
Silly, the Calico cat that replaced Coco:
Silly again:
Silly sleeping on her chair:
Charlie, the Cardigan Welsh Corgi, lying on his back:
Charlie lying down:
