When we were looking to buy land, we were talking to a man who was in his 80's or 90's who was selling the land where he literally was born and raised. The guy was a chicken farmer who smelled like chicken scat in the worse way. I don't think he had bathed in who knows how long. Some guys were rabbit hunting on his land without permission so I went with the Chicken Farmer to ask them to leave. We went in his truck, and boy howdy, even with the window rolled down, I wanted to puke from the smell. Which brought back memories.

When I was a teenager I had a job where I was working with a drunk. He had a contractor grade truck with a plastic/rubber floor which allowed up to clean up his puke easily. Course, the smell never left the truck and riding with him I had to act like a dog and stick my head out the window to breath. :shocked:
Anywho, the Chicken Farmer told us that back in the day, the neighbors would get together when the number of stray dogs increased too much and they would go dog hunting to reduce the population.
The house on the Chicken Farmer's land was built by his father around 1900 and the Chicken Farmer was born in the house. They had quite a few nice out buildings and barns on 50 acres but the land was a bit too far out for us to buy. Nice guy though he stunk to high heaven.
Laer,
Dan