Crime Under Cover of Loretta Lynn

Scene of the Crime

Up at 7:30, I was pulled outside ten minutes later by Farina’s non-stop barking. Barking and snarling at something I couldn’t see and ignoring my shouts to knock it off. Looked normal enough from my perspective, no squirrels, birds, armadillos or passing cars to spark her excitement but she paced back and forth at the fence, on about something she couldn’t see on the other side. 

Around 10 o’clock, the quiet restored and Farina sitting vigil on the backyard picnic table, neighbor Randy came over wondering if I’d seen or heard anything out of the ordinary around 7:30, said he had gotten up to go fishing at 6:30 leaving his wife and brother-in-law asleep in the house. Sitting in his boat out on the water he got a call on his mobile from wife Jean telling him to skedaddle home, the police were on their way, her car stolen, gone in 60 seconds and Jimmy’s truck tossed for valuables. Apparently, the thief walked through the wide open gate in broad daylight, rummaged through Jimmy's truck, then saw Jean's car unlocked with keys on the driver's side floor. Jean looked out the window in time to see the thief speeding out the gate in her Ford compact. 

And there the source of Farina’s barking was revealed. Unfamiliar smell in the yard next door and she stood at the fence sounding an alarm the whole time.

My other neighbor at the end of the road is a good guy with a gap in his front teeth, always willing to help out, full of humorous backwoods tales and with a dentist who works out of the trunk of his Buick LeSabre. Plunks his patient on a folding chair and turns on the laughing gas. Chatting at the gate the other day, Lamar told me, “Hell, I'll shoot the son of a bitch. What do I care? I ain’t got long to live anyways.” He was talking about the folks over the way, the ones with their giant killer dogs, muscle cars, all night Loretta Lynn parties, and Sunday afternoon re-enactments of the war in Iraq. Truth is, the past couple of months the killer dogs are rarely seen, the Loretta Lynn parties on hold and the big gun shoot-outs too. Seems most of what they do over there these days is run heavy duty equipment like road graders and other Caterpillar giants. Hard to tell what it is they’re aiming at with all that big yellow machinery, but what used to be invisible behind a screen of trees is now a house uncovered by the uprooting of trees and brush. With a little imagination you’d think they’re preparing a command post in a palmetto hot zone, 500 feet on all four sides of the house denuded of everything—nothing but flat grassless dirt between them and an encroaching enemy. Farina slipped out the gate one morning and hightailed it for their hot zone. I ran after her and stepping through the open gate was met by a former Marine gunnery sergeant who warned me he was going to shoot Farina dead if she got into his chicken house. Good neighbors aren’t always on the nearest vine.