Little known outside of Louisiana, the Catahoula Cur is one of the most popular breeds in the state and for good reason. I link to the Wikipedia article and some videos about them because I have had several inquiries after mentioning this wonderful breed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9NHxrnKe5g
And a couple more to show how the bacon gets brought home.
Yes, the dogs in the last video are wearing body armor, much to John’s dismay.
“The supposed quietude of a good man allures the ruffian; while on the other hand, arms, like law, discourage and keep the invader and the plunderer in awe, and preserve order in the world as well as property. The balance of power is the scale of peace. The same balance would be preserved were all the world destitute of arms, for all would be alike; but since some will not, others dare not lay them aside. And while a single nation refuses to lay them down, it is proper that all should keep them up. Horrid mischief would ensue were one-half the world deprived of the use of them; for while avarice and ambition have a place in the heart of man, the weak will become a prey to the strong. The history of every age and nation establishes these truths, and facts need but little arguments when they prove themselves.” – Thomas Paine, “Thoughts on Defensive War” in Pennsylvania Magazine, July 1775
May, 2018 went out with a bang for us. Our normally peaceful, quiet life was abruptly interrupted on the morning of May 29 by a knock at the door. A Deputy Sheriff had come to warn us that a gang of bandits had committed armed robbery and were now fleeing from the police on foot. They were hiding in the immediate area. We were to lock everything up and stay vigilant. We were a prime target for a desperate man looking to steal a getaway car.
I made certain all of our doors and windows were locked. I made certain the vehicle we keep out of the garage was locked up. I hid all of the keys inside the house. Later that afternoon a Louisiana State Trooper came to the door to reiterate just how dangerous the situation was. They had caught three of the four but the fourth man was still in the area armed and dangerous. After that sunk in I decided that keeping two small pistols out, one for myself and one for my wife, was not adequate. I got one of my Winchester rifles out of the safe and carried it around with me everywhere in the house.
We have dogs. They live inside the house with us and only venture out into a fenced in back yard. Dogs are the best burglar alarm one can have. No Frisbee time those two days but I still had to walk them out in the yard for bathroom breaks so I took them out one at a time several times over those two days so that I could keep one eye on the dog and one on the tree line. I carried my rifle with me.
That night was one of little sleep. I guessed that the fugitive would wait until dark to make his move. With all of the outside lights on and all of the inside lights out I put my wife in the bedroom with one Catahoula Cur and the three small dogs so that she could sleep. I slept on the couch with the other Catahoula, a 115 pound Teddy bear named Jack, sitting up with the Winchester across my lap. Every time Jack would raise his head or a cricket would chirp I would wake with a start.
On Thursday the 31st a hundred yards from our front door the last desperado gave himself up to the Sheriff. Two days of triple digit temperatures without food or water and near zero chance of escape convinced him to throw in the towel. It was a huge relief for the whole community. My rifle went back in the safe and everyone could mostly relax again. The experience reminded a lot of people that danger is real. The wolf can show up at the door anytime without warning. My pistols stay handy.
Here is the story in the local press.
Incidentally Rigolette is pronounced ‘RowGulley’, one word. Hey, it is Louisiana.
I have to give credit to the Grant Parish Sheriff Steve McCain and a huge thank you to the other departments that aided us. Steve handled the crisis in a stellar manner. He got his man and no one was injured. He kept the suspect surrounded until he gave up. No doubt he could have gone charging into a couple hundred acres of thick woods after an armed and desperate man to put an end to the affair much sooner but he chose the safer tactic. It meant a sleepless night for a lot of people but if that is the price of no one getting injured I will pay it any day of the week.
This situation could have ended very badly but it did not. When it comes to deterring crime the police are only half of the equation. Mr. Alexis never did try to invade any of the homes in this community, not for hostages, not for food or water, not for a getaway car. He was afraid to. You see, everyone in this community owns firearms. Not a day goes by that I don’t hear gunfire from somewhere in the community. People here practice with their guns. There is sport shooting, hunting and just plain practice. Most importantly those arms are used for self-defense. The families and homes here are guarded with them. It seems that Mr. Alexis took note of this. I’m sure that crazy guy that walks his dogs with a rifle slung over his shoulder was no small part of his decision.
Not long ago I saw an article that amused me. It was a bunch of eggheads puzzling over the mystery of how humans were able to domesticate dogs. I had to laugh. Clearly none of those guys had ever domesticated a wild animal. Any mammal that lives in social groups, and some birds, domesticate easily. Don’t hit them with a stick and give them food. I dare you to try and get rid of them after that. I have rescued and raised cottontails, raccoon, and red squirrel. I know people who have had pet flying squirrels, grey squirrels, foxes, and I once dated a girl who raised a whitetail doe. The damned thing lived in the house and slept in the bed with her every night. Don’t ask.
Anyway, the real question is not how did we domesticate dogs, but why. My wife jokes that we did not domesticate dogs, they domesticated us–or as she says dogmesticated. I think it is closer to enslavement. Hold on while I check my grocery list. I think they need more chews and treats, maybe even a bag of food that runs around $50….
I’m back. The answer, of course, is simple. Having a pack of wolves hanging around your paleolithic camp at night is a good idea when you live in a world where all manner of beast and man are trying to eat you. It is nearly impossible to sneak up on a camp of sleeping people without sounding the alarm by waking the wolves. They were the original burglar alarm. In that world, people didn’t move around all that much. Wander outside your tribe’s territory and you were likely going to be put on a spit. Contemporary primitive cultures live within strict boundaries. Many people I have met in the more backward parts of the world live out their whole lives never traveling more than a few miles from the spot where they were born. I once tried to explain to a Bolivian who wanted to know where I was from by telling him how long it would take to get there by canoe. “Two years that way,” and I pointed north. That made sense to him.
Beyond the pale. Ever wonder what that means or where it came from? Europeans didn’t have the extinct Eurasian wolf to domesticate, so they would build a fence around their village that was bristling with sharpened sticks or thorns. That was called the pale. Try to get past it and you were likely to be impaled. It was often whitewashed, which is why we use the word ‘pale’ to describe a color. At night, if someone got inside the pale, their silhouette could be seen more easily against the white background. The expression ‘beyond the pale’ refers to going outside the safe zone or going too far.
I am saying that there was never a golden age of gamboling about the fields and dales. Throughout all of human history, people lived within strict boundaries. Go outside those boundaries and some dude named Trog was going to bring your nutsack home to his wife so that she could tan it and make a little purse out of it. Travel has always been restricted. In fact, I would contend that people have more freedom of movement today than at any time in history.
I have heard people blame travel restriction on the rise of nation states and the modern idea of borders. Human history is mostly a chronicle of ethnic or cultural groups invading their neighbors. Travel restrictions were always there; nation states arose from the need for greater security. Borders were not drawn arbitrarily. They mark the edges of cultural territories. Restricting who may or may not cross those borders was and is a matter of life or death.
The open borders advocates around here have gotten me on the fence once or twice, but looking at contemporary events around the world got my feet back on the ground. I agree that freedom of movement is an inalienable right. One has freedom of movement so long as they do not trespass. If one believes in self-ownership, that every person’s mind, body, and conscience are their own property and no one else’s, then by logical extension they must accept that the fruit of one’s labor is their own property also. I decide who is welcome to set foot on my property and who is restricted from doing so. If a group of like minded people own property collectively, then they decide who may or may not set foot on it. I have no problem with the principle or practice of a nation preventing trespass so long as they do not restrict movement out of those borders or prevent one of the collective owners from re-entering.
There are other factors at play besides security, of course–the welfare state being the largest of those. Ideology is a concern of mine, as well. I am not a multiculturist. All cultures are not equal and the spectrum is quite wide. Flooding our country with people who do not accept the principle of inalienable rights or private ownership is worse than a bad idea. There are many individuals despite being from inferior cultures that would be a great credit to our country, and we should allow them in, even encourage them. Allowing just anyone based solely on their culture or ethnicity on the other hand is…unwise. A merit based system really is the only sensible policy in my mind.
I know this is one of the more contentious subjects around here, so y’all have at it. I’ll make popcorn.
I have been lugging a pistol around for thirty five years. It is a nuisance. I have to make certain I remember to bring it with me every time I leave the house. I have to always know where it is, make sure it is safe from theft or curious hands, and it can be heavy and uncomfortable to wear. Mind you, I love my pistols because most of them are the pinnacle of the machinist’s art. My collection, better than I ever thought I would have as a young man, goes back five generations in my family. They aren’t just tools. They are a testament to the ingenuity and skill of man, but just carrying a hunk of steel around is a pain in the butt. When I am home, I always have one either within arm’s reach or a step or two away. I have solved some of the problem by stepping down from a full sized pistol to a sub-compact, but it is still a nuisance.
I find recreational shooting enormously enjoyable and years ago I did some competitive shooting. For me, the competition was just organized recreational shooting. Back in those days, I would burn through fifty thousand or more rounds per year. I was no Jerry Miculek but I guess I wasn’t too bad. I could break clays with ease with a pistol even drawing after the clay was in the air. Unfortunately, that is a perishable skill as I recently learned. Despite my enjoyment of all that, utility carrying is no fun. I wish I lived in a world where I could just put them all back in the safe after playtime is over.
I raised or partially raised several children, but I have only one biological son. He was the kid everyone wishes they had. He was never any trouble and actually followed the advice I gave him. I don’t know how much of that was because of me. I know his mother was no small part of it, but I like to think I wasn’t, either. He is a grown man now, married with two children and owns his own wildly successful business. He is smart and industrious and a true credit to our society.
When he was one year old, or thereabouts, his mother and I had our own business. It was a lot of work and meant long work days, sometimes up to 16 hours. We took turns in the evenings taking our son home and putting him to bed. One evening it was my turn so I put him in the child seat and strapped it in on the passenger side front seat. It was a dreary night, pissing rain and cold. Visibility was bad. In those days we had a small traffic circle that I had to navigate through to get home. Because it was so small, it was impossible to yield and then zip around. Invariably cars had to stop and wait. It functioned more as a four-way stop than a circle. On that evening, as usual, I had to stop. There were several cars in front of me and cars stopped behind me.
Without any warning a man began pounding on the passenger side window with his fist, just inches from my infant son. He was yanking on the door handle and trying to break the glass at the same time. He was screaming and cursing at me and demanding that I open the door. I don’t know where he came from. I have no idea what his circumstances were or why he was doing that, but no way in hell was I going to unlock that door. Fortunately, I had my pistol tucked between the seat and the console. I drew it out, reached across the cabin and pointed straight at his chest. I tapped on the window three times with the end of the barrel. *Poof*. The guy disappeared like smoke in the wind. I looked around the windows and in all of the mirrors, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. He must have dropped to the ground and crawled away. I still thank God he had the wisdom to do that. I didn’t have to pull the trigger but if he had broken that window or gotten that door open I certainly would have. In all of the years I have carried a pistol, that is the only time I have had to lay hands on it in earnest.
A pistol is exactly analogous to a fire extinguisher: another tool that I keep close at hand all of the time. I keep two of those in my jeep. You lug it around and 99.9999% of the time you don’t need it, but when the moment arises that you do need it, by God you need it.
As you can imagine, anti-gun and anti-second amendment arguments don’t carry much weight with me. Walk out all you want. Yammer lies until your jaw falls off. I am keeping my guns. It just isn’t up for discussion. My son is likely in the world today because one rainy evening twenty five years ago I had a pistol.