“It did not suffer and I did not take pleasure in killing it. There is a county leash law which you should abide by so that I do not have to kill any more of your pets.” said the cold note. Nymeria was loyal, sweet and very friendly.
Laws are meant to protect us, but sometimes they allow shocking acts of extreme cruelty. Unfortunately, this story is proof of that.
Many places have leash laws that apply to dogs for a good reason. Even the dog with the best behavior can be provoked by something, fight with a less friendly dog or jump into traffic and cause an accident while chasing a ball or a creature.
These leash laws are intended to protect people and dogs, not harm them nor much less kill them if they break them without knowing it. Poor Nymeria is witness to this.
After her owner, Chad Stryker, lost sight of her for a few minutes, the 10-month-old dog left her garden without a leash. When the owner noticed her absence, he brought together dozens of friends and family to look for his beloved pet.
4 days went by without finding Nymeria and Chad started to doubt he would find her. He just hoped his dog was OK. This little bit of hope, however, quickly vanished when he checked his mailbox.
There, tucked in an envelope, was his best friend’s necklace next to a note that said what no owner wants to hear: Nymeria was dead and her death hadn’t been an accident.
Chad couldn’t believe it. A neighbor in his community would rather shoot his 10-month-old dog who was rummaging through his trash instead of calling him. He didn’t give him a chance to fix Nymeria’s mistake, nor did she survive.
Even though the law was on the neighbor’s side, that didn’t make the atrocity he committed OK. He wrote a public response for the mysterious neighbor to read and learn about all the pain he’d caused, just because a dog was in his trash.
“RIP Nymeria, you were worth more than trash to me, girl. I received a ziplock bag with the Nymeria necklace and an anonymous note written in my mailbox tonight that said she had been shot dead because she was in someone’s trash Saturday night,” said Stryker.
“This is for the coward who shot my girl … I want you to know that she was one of the sweetest dogs in the world and very affectionate. You, my friend, are shit. You didn’t call me to let me know, man to man, you shot my baby on Saturday night. You allowed me and many other people to waste time looking for my baby who was already dead.”
“You never gave me the opportunity to correct the problem, you never came to me and told me that my dog was tearing up your trash. The kind of person I am, not only would I have picked it all up, but I would have made sure it didn’t happen again. You referred to a leash law and unfortunately, she was out for a brief moment (I take responsibility for that). That doesn’t give you the right to shoot my dog.”
“It is sad to think that I have a neighbor of your moral character living so close to me that I would do this. I hate you? No, I feel sorry for the person you are and those who have to tolerate you. All you did here was return the necklace and tell me that you had killed her. I think Nymeria was worth less than trash or a damn phone call.”
“If it wasn’t too much trouble, could you leave me another note in my mailbox (because obviously it’s too much of a coward to call me) and tell me where your body is so I can give it a proper burial? or if you just want to put it at the beginning of my path,” he concluded.