I'm sure I'll never forget something that happened when I was 12 or 13 years old. While getting ready to go to church one Sunday morning, we heard a horse and we heard dogs barking, but didn't know what the commotion was. Well, when we got in the car to go, at the bottom of the hill and across the road, two big dogs had a horse down and had literally torn one ear out of its head. When we stopped and got out of the car, that scared the dogs off, but no way that poor horse was ever going to get up again. Dad called the sheriff's office and a deputy came out, but said he couldn't shoot the horse because he didn't know who it belonged to. (The owners didn't live on the property and no one seemed to know how to contact the owner). That poor horse laid there in the mud for 3 days before it died, and I could never forgive that deputy.