I became aware of some commotion by hearing my dog having a major hissy fit on the back deck. I opened the door and immediately heard bloodcurdling screams from one of my daughter’s goats in the barnyard.

I grabbed my rifle and raced to the barn. The level of violence at the scene was brutal. I shot high and to the left so as not to injure the goat. I took aim at the culprit, but click … no fire.

That was a lucky stray dog; I do not miss. Regardless, the first shot scared the dog, and he took off. I stood there, above the goat, watching blood squirt out of its neck, mixed with bubbles and gurgling air sounds. The trachea was punctured. I knelt on the ground, used my T-shirt and applied pressure to stop the bleeding. Within minutes, my daughter was calling for help. Help arrived quickly (thank you, Tammy), and we all did our best.

That was a week ago, and I am still very shaken. The experience got me thinking about the men and women who have witnessed violent scenes on a battlefield. My heart and much gratitude go out to all our veterans. Recently, I witnessed a small group protesting our involvement in Ukraine. I remind those protesters that if we let one dictator succeed, they will soon be on our shores.

Larry Paul
Woolwich