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Natasha was in court today. She was testifying about the men with the ties to the Central American gang who shot her in the back of the head and sexually assaulted her. They hit her with a machete.
They shot and killed her brother and her two friends. The four had just got together to listen to music and dance behind the school that night. They were all going off to college later that summer. It was 2007.
The police had no idea who was responsible. The victims didn’t know who their attackers were.
Senseless.
The sort of thing that makes you pray for justice.
Sometimes God sends the answer to our prayers in funny packages. This package had long silly ears, wrinkly skin and a nose. Oh, it had a nose.
Officer Caldwell handles Hunter the bloodhound and he was dispatched to the scene. Bloodhounds need a scent article to know what or who they were looking for and when Hunter didn’t have one he got lost. Officer Caldwell spent the afternoon there but came up with nothing.
That night someone found a cellphone in the dirt and mud. Officer Caldwell must’ve smiled when he had Hunter take a whiff because Hunter put his nose to the ground and went to work.
I like to picture the bastards who thought it was okay to take three lives and ruin another sitting smuggly in their house believing they were above what was right. Thinking they got away with something. Believing life was that cheap.
I like to picture that in the split screen of my mind’s eye as Hunter moved along with his nose to the ground. Kept going, following the scent.
Hunter led the officers to a house and he sat and waited.
The police arrested Rodolfo Godinez for murder.
Shot guns, machetes, gangs versus a nose.
Nice going, Hunter.
Read more about the case here: http://www.nj.com/news/index.ssf/2010/05/sniffing_dog_in_newark_schooly.html
Just another reason on the long list to love those hounds!
Call me a name or even ransack the car and I’ll get over it. Points for me! Gee I’m so spiritual.
Stories like this, though, show me how sick, unforgiving and miserably un-Christ-like I truly am.
Ask my wife; I can’t even watch movies with stories like this let alone contemplate it happening to a human being. No words for the filth I see these slugs as.
So I say it’s Time for a Hump Day Combo.
Imagine Goodfellas Ray Liotta is the neighbor across the street from Rodolfo.
[you can see where this is going]
Hunter plops down on his rump and stares to give Ray the “this is the guy” …and Ray walks over and does the snub-nosed-.38 number on ol’ Ro-di-o-fa-lah-fi-o.
Different visceral reaction?
For me, the horrified “oooh, that’s enough” didn’t come so quickly this time.
Seems I’m still waiting for it, actually.
Anyway–
Good on Hunter. Chicken pot pie for him tonight I say.
BD…you gotta way with words…and real life spirituality…