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Friday, February 8, 2013

Porter: Favorite Beer, Favorite Puppy

It's been a few weeks now since our dog Porter was attacked in our kitchen by a deliveryman from a local farm. (See earlier post if you missed this surreal story) Since then, we've had maybe four dozen people in the house many of whom knew Porter before the attack and plenty who are just meeting him for the first time. The familiar friends have seen the change, every one of them remarking how shy he is now and that before the attack he would have been right in the mix of people, smiling and banging his tail into them - or tapping away at their leg with that red ball he carries around, "play with me, play with me!" Now, he sits up on the landing of our staircase and just watches. At points, we can see him physically shaking. This monster broke our dog. Last week we received notice that Porter's attacker sought some type of "medical treatment" for some type of bogus injury no doubt self-inflicted to substantiate his insanity. It was infuriating, our gentle little dog being painted to be on the attack. But a little justice came in the mail yesterday. Pardon our French, but Fucktard has plead not guilty to four charges Mount Joy Police Department filed against him. We wanted this (not the wasting the court's time part but the opportunity to make him face us. Writing a check for a fine was too simple. On April 3rd we have our opportunity to speak on Porter's behalf. He's our dog, no different than our two-legged son. Court here is a little different than the court's Sarah has seen before. In little Mount Joy, it's common for the responding officer to act as the prosecutor. You read correctly. We're good with this - very good. Our Officer Cook has proven to be not only an outstanding officer but an outstanding person, as well. He could have come here and said "it's just a dog" but he was patient, compassionate and extremely thorough. As I'm sitting in our kitchen writing, a few feet from the attack, Porter looks at me and I say "I ruv you!" His tail wags and he gives me that goofy smile and his trademark Porter-speak "hur hur hur." We're going to have your day in court, little guy.

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