When I was eight, my brother started school. We walked the half mile or so and were not allowed to cross the main street. I was responsible for my brother until we got home. One day a German Shepherd comes off a porch and scares the snot out of both of us. I'm standing there holding my books as a weapon prepared to defend my little brother when a lady comes out and yells at the dog and he retreats. Next day, same thing. Third day, dog runs out, I assume defensive posture and lady comes out and yells at me, "If you would cross the street he wouldn't bother you!" Next day I pack my dart pistol; you know the type, hard plastic shaft with the rubber suction cup on the end. I removed the cup. When the dog got close enough, I capped him in the eye. Dog runs to the house howling, lady comes out looking for blood, calls cops, cops call parents. After my brother and I told our version the cops recommended the lady restrain the dog. One of the cops told me, "Good shooting, son."
I guess that's the reason I've never put animals above people.
Eddie