These Keystone Cops stories always tickle me – and there seems to be no shortage of them. This one is entertaining for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that the Oakland PD has to empty an entire magazine to kill a cornered yearling deer. My four year old could do better than that.
“To Serve and Protect” indeed. I feel so much safer now with you guys on the street and that menacing animal off of it.

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?.../BAGN1D9FV0.DTL
Outrage over deer shot by Oakland officer
Oakland Police Chief Anthony Batts said Tuesday that he was "unhappy" that an officer shot and killed a young deer in an East Oakland backyard over the weekend and promised an internal investigation into what led to the decision to open fire.
The deer, estimated to be about a year old, was shot in a backyard of a home on the 1700 block of 90th Avenue about 11 a.m. Saturday. The shooting was captured on video by Anthony Weems, 28, who was among many residents who were outraged Tuesday that police had killed the animal.
"That could have been handled in a much better way," Weems said. "The kids that were there, they go to the zoo to pet these animals. All of us are upset. Somebody has to speak up."
In a statement, Batts said, "I'm unhappy with the results of this incident. I do not like what I saw. We are reviewing our policies and our procedures surrounding this incident to ensure that something like this does not happen again. I understand the importance of life and am working toward implementing strategies that will result in humane outcomes in our future contacts with wildlife."
The incident began when two Oakland Housing Authority officers spotted the deer running on the 8700 block of Birch Street about 10:30 a.m., said housing authority spokesman Marcus Walton. The officers saw the deer running into the carport on 90th Avenue behind a home belonging to Kim McElmore. The animal then jumped a fence and ended up in Brian Campbell's backyard.
The housing authority officers notified Oakland animal control and the state Department of Fish and Game, Walton said.
But sources said that before a state game warden could arrive, Oakland police Sgt. Terrance West ordered another officer to kill the deer. The officer, whose name was not released, fired several shots, but the deer did not die immediately, so he fired several more shots, Weems said. A total of six or seven shots were fired but it was not known how many hit the deer.
"I feel they shouldn't have killed Bambi," Campbell said. "The Oakland Zoo was right up the street. They could have called the Oakland Zoo and said, 'Look, you know, we have this little baby deer, can you come down and take it back to the wild?' "
Oakland animal control officers were on the scene, but they were not trained to handle wildlife such as deer, said Officer Jeff Thomason, an Oakland police spokesman. The department oversees animal control officers.
In general, Oakland officers are allowed to kill animals that are injured or pose threats to public safety, said Officer Holly Joshi, a department spokeswoman. Witnesses said the deer did not appear to be hurt and posed no threat.
"Public safety (threat) to whom? Because it's back here in the corner?" McElmore, 38, asked, pointing to where the animal was killed.
McElmore's husband, Elnorse McElmore, agreed, saying, "The deer was scared. It wasn't doing anything. The whole time, it was in the corner, shaking."
Susan Heckly, wildlife rehabilitation director at the Lindsay Wildlife Museum in Walnut Creek, said Tuesday that she saw the video but didn't know the circumstances that led to the decision to shoot the deer.
Nevertheless, "from my vantage point, I would say that is not Plan A - that was probably a bad decision," Heckly said. "I don't know the police force's level of knowledge about wildlife or animals and how they train their officers."

I can't read it and won't. But I'm outraged anyway if other people are. Must be a good reason. Poor deer. I hope that officer gets a huge festering boil on his balls and both of them swell up to the size of basketballs then burst and drown him.

You refuse to read it but you are sure the officer deserves to die a painful death. That says a boat load Grace.

XX I may have posted this before, if so I apologize..... A while back I spotted an injured deer in the ditch on I75 south of my town. I called the highway patrol and they said it had already been reported and an officer had been dispatched. They asked if I wanted the deer and I said yes but I was on my way to a meeting.I made a U turn and when I came back by, the officer was there to dispatch the deer. It was a woman officer and she was AWFUL with her weapon....The deers front legs were both broken, and it would jump up and hobble forward . she would jump in her cruiser, pull forward and jump out and shoot at the deer. I saw her shoot several times and NOT hit the deer. she would LITERALLY jump up in the air and come down in a wide squatted stance with her shoulders shrugged up around her ears and the gun held staright out in front with both hands ( Think barney fife X10) She would fire, the deer would move and she would repeat the entire thing ....I got disgusted and went to the meeting and on my way back I called and the deer had still not been claimed. I pulled over to pick it up and a couple of guys had walked out across the field to see what was going on. They said the woman fired ( I think I remember it right) like 16 shots and she was shooting DIRECTLY AT A HOUSING DEVELOPMENT...When I got the deer home and skinned it out there was ONE bullet in it.

Ok I just read it fast. He shot a young deer in a backyard but I don't know why. Do you? Now, instead of festering boils I hope his penis shrivels up like a raisen and drops off like a rotten apple.

see I cannot argue with you now because you made an educated post. I think they overreacted by killing it also.

Yes I do... It was for the same reason that they just euthanized a few hundred gamecocks in California... They were scared of it and thought it was a dangerous wild animal

hmmm makes one think doesn't it grace.

Yes it does. But I already know pops is an ass.

What would you do with a few hundred trained fighting roosters, Steve? Take them to a Pet Supermarket Adoptathon? Although it's been proven some can be rehabbed, where would you find the facilities to keep 300 game fowl [separate] and the volunteers to conduct their behavorial rehab/training? And then let's say this was even a possibility and actually transpired in Fairytaleville, what then? Then take them to Pet Supermarket? If the cockers or whatever you call them didn't perpetrate this breed for illegal profit vis a vis animal cruelty, there would be no need for their subsequent disposal. Makes one think doesn't it Steve.

With time, women gain weight and because they think that they accumulate so much information and
wisdom in their heads that when there is no more room, they say it distributes out
to the rest of their bodies. So they aren't heavy, they are enormously cultured, educated and happy.

Beginning today Gracie, when you look at your ass in the mirror you will think,
Good grief, look how smart I am!

Oh and the game fowl? The obvious solution is to leave them and their owner, the fuck alone, they aren't hurting you or anyone else.

no training in the roosters grace... as bad as you wish it to be true, it isn't.. That aside, where were the roosters when the humaniacs decided they needed " rescued" were they housed and fed and cared for? So the idea that they had to be killed due to a lack of facilities is bullshit.......just like "rehabbing" them is.
Funny thing grace.. you wish a gruesome death on the officer that shot ONE deer but seem fine with the ones that killed 300 roosters.....

Steve

Call it what you will. But they are specifically bred for aggressive traits, conditioned, primed, given steroids, outfitted with deadly equipment and encouraged to fight to the death don't throw your arms up in the air and feign ignorance as bad as you wish that to be not true, it is.


Steve


Housed, fed and cared for (I use that term loosely) until they're thrown into a ring to suffer and die for entertainment. Die in fighting or get thrown 1/2 dead into a garbage pail. I think the humaniacs' method is more humane and just. Serves the cockfighters right too.

Steve

Again, if the roosters weren't bred/born, there wouldn't be a need to euthanize them. So who's to blame? The cockfighters. They in the end are responsible for the deaths either in the ring or by the humaniacs. No 2 ways around that.

Grace...have you ever seen a cockfight? I have seen thousands and never witnessed an act of cruelty DURING a cockfight. I would have to agree with you on the after fight treatment some recieve. To just toss em in a garbage can while still living is bullshit IMO and I have to admit that it does happen, although not as frequently as you seem to think. That aside for you to act as if the roosters in CA were "saved" is ludicrous. The roosters get impeccable treatment. To do otherwise is simply throwing money away. Why do you believe the roosters should have been killed but the deer should have been left alone? What criteria determines which life is valued and which isn't? Why do the humaniacs get a free pass from you but the deputy deserves to die?
And would you think cockfighting was better if the roosters were fought unprepared? I mean seriously would it be less cruel in your mind if they were unconditioned, malnourished, unfit, and the weaponry so lopsided that one had no chance of winning?
It also seems from your post that you are advocating the annhialation of all gamefowl?

COCK-FIGHTING

We went to a cockpit in New Orleans on a Saturday afternoon. I had never seen a cock-fight before. There were men and boys there of all ages and all colors, and of many languages and nationalities. But I noticed one quite conspicuous and surprising absence: the traditional brutal faces. There were no brutal faces. With no cock-fighting going on, you could have played the gathering on a stranger for a prayer-meeting; and after it began, for a revival--provided you blindfolded your stranger--for the shouting was something prodigious.

A negro and a white man were in the ring; everybody else outside. The cocks were brought in in sacks; and when time was called, they were taken out by the two bottle-holders, stroked, caressed, poked toward each other, and finally liberated. The big black cock plunged instantly at the little gray one and struck him on the head with his spur. The gray responded with spirit. Then the Babel of many-tongued shoutings broke out, and ceased not thenceforth. When the cocks had been fighting some little time, I was expecting them momently to drop dead, for both were blind, red with blood, and so exhausted that they frequently fell down. Yet they would not give up, neither would they die. The negro and the white man would pick them up every few seconds, wipe them off, blow cold water on them in a fine spray, and take their heads in their mouths and hold them there a moment--to warm back the perishing life perhaps; I do not know. Then, being set down again, the dying creatures would totter gropingly about, with dragging wings, find each other, strike a guesswork blow or two, and fall exhausted once more.

I did not see the end of the battle. I forced myself to endure it as long as I could, but it was too pitiful a sight; so I made frank confession to that effect, and we retired. We heard afterward that the black cock died in the ring, and fighting to the last.

Evidently there is abundant fascination about this 'sport' for such as have had a degree of familiarity with it. I never saw people enjoy anything more than this gathering enjoyed this fight. The case was the same with old gray-heads and with boys of ten. They lost themselves in frenzies of delight. The 'cocking-main' is an inhuman sort of entertainment, there is no question about that; still, it seems a much more respectable and far less cruel sport than fox-hunting--for the cocks like it; they experience, as well as confer enjoyment; which is not the fox's case.

~ Mark Twain
- Life on the Mississippi





http://www.twainquotes.com/Cockfighting.html

Personaly I like this work of fiction by Twain...

The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County
In compliance with the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the East, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired after my friend's friend, Leonidas W. Smiley, as requested to do, and I hereunto append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth; that my friend never knew such a personage; and that he only conjectured that, if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley, and he would go to work and bore me nearly to death with some infernal reminiscence of him as long and tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it certainly succeeded.
I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of the old, dilapidated tavern in the ancient mining camp of Angel's, and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up and gave me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had commissioned me to make some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named Leonidas W. Smiley Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley a young minister of the Gospel, who he had heard was at one time a resident of Angel's Camp. I added that, if Mr. Wheeler could tell me any thing about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, I would feel under many obligations to him.
Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his chair, and then sat me down and reeled off the monotonous narrative which follows this paragraph. He never smiled, he never frowned, he never changed his voice from the gentle-flowing key to which he tuned the initial sentence, he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm; but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein of impressive earnestness and sincerity, which showed me plainly that, so far from his imagining that there was any thing ridiculous or funny about his story, he regarded it as a really important matter, and admired its two heroes as men of transcendent genius in finesse. To me, the spectacle of a man drifting serenely along through such a queer yarn without ever smiling, was exquisitely absurd. As I said before, I asked him to tell me what he knew of Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and he replied as follows. I let him go on in his own way, and never interrupted him once:
There was a feller here once by the name of Jim Smiley, in the winter of '49 or may be it was the spring of '50 I don't recollect exactly, somehow, though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I remember the big flume wasn't finished when he first came to the camp; but any way, he was the curiosest man about always betting on any thing that turned up you ever see, if he could get any body to bet on the other side; and if he couldn't, he'd change sides. Any way that suited the other man would suit him any way just so's he got a bet, he was satisfied. But still he was lucky, uncommon lucky; he most always come out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance; there couldn't be no solittry thing mentioned but that feller'd offer to bet on it, and -take any side you please, as I was just telling you. If there was a horse-race, you'd find him flush, or you'd find him busted at the end of it; if there was a dog-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a cat-fight, he'd bet on it; if there was a chicken-fight, he'd bet on it; why, if there was two birds setting on a fence, he would bet you which one would fly first; or if there was a camp-meeting, he would be there reg'lar, to bet on Parson Walker, which he judged to be the best exhorter about here, and so he was, too, and a good man. If he even seen a straddle-bug start to go anywheres, he would bet you how long it would take him to get wherever he was going to, and if you took him up, he would foller that straddle-bug to Mexico but what he would find out where he was bound for and how long he was on the road. Lots of the boys here has seen that Smiley, and can tell you about him. Why, it never made no difference to him he would bet on any thing the dangdest feller. Parson Walker's wife laid very sick once, for a good while, and it seemed as if they warn's going to save her; but one morning he come in, and Smiley asked how she was, and he said she was considerable better thank the Lord for his inftnit mercy and coming on so smart that, with the blessing of Providence, she'd get well yet; and Smiley, before he thought, says, "Well, I'll risk two- and-a-half that she don't, any way."
Thish-yer Smiley had a mare the boys called her the fifteen- minute nag, but that was only in fun, you know, because, of course, she was faster than that and he used to win money on that horse, for all she was so slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper, or the consumption, or something of that kind. They used to give her two or three hundred yards start, and then pass her under way; but always at the fag-end of the race she'd get excited and desperate- like, and come cavorting and straddling up, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the air, and sometimes out to one side amongst the fences, and kicking up m-o-r-e dust, and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing and blowing her nose and always fetch up at the stand just about a neck ahead, as near as you could cipher it down.
And he had a little small bull pup, that to look at him you'd think he wan's worth a cent, but to set around and look ornery, and lay for a chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up on him, he was a different dog; his underjaw'd begin to stick out like the fo'castle of a steamboat, and his teeth would uncover, and shine savage like the furnaces. And a dog might tackle him, and bully- rag him, and bite him, and throw him over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew Jackson which was the name of the pup Andrew Jackson would never let on but what he was satisfied, and hadn't expected nothing else and the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time, till the money was all up; and then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog jest by the j'int of his hind leg and freeze on it not chew, you understand, but only jest grip and hang on till they thronged up the sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winner on that pup, till he harnessed a dog once that didn't have no hind legs, because they'd been sawed off by a circular saw, and when the thing had gone along far enough, and the money was all up, and he come to make a snatch for his pet bolt, he saw in a minute how he'd been imposed on, and how the other dog had him in the door, so to speak, and he 'peered sur- prised, and then he looked sorter discouraged-like, and didn't try no more to win the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He give Smiley a look, as much as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault, for putting up a dog that hadn't no hind legs for him to take bolt of, which was his main dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson, and would have made a name for hisself if he'd lived, for the stuff was in him, and he had genius I know it, because he hadn't had no opportunities to speak of, and it don't stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight as he could under them circumstances, if he hadn't no talent. It always makes me feel sorry when I think of that last fight of his'n, and the way it turned out.
Well, thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, and chicken cocks, and tom- cats, and all of them kind of things, till you couldn't rest, and you couldn't fetch nothing for him to bet on but he'd match you. He ketched a frog one day, and took him home, and said he cal'klated to edercate him; and so he never done nothing for three months but set in his back yard and learn that frog to jump. And you bet you he did learn him, too. He'd give him a little punch behind, and the next minute you'd see that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut see him turn one summerset, or may be a couple, if he got a good start, and come down flat-footed and all right, like a cat. He got him up so in the matter of catching flies, and kept him in practice so constant, that he'd nail a fly every time as far as he could see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted was education, and he could do most any thing and I believe him. Why, I've seen him set Dan'l Webster down here on this floor Dan'l Webster was the name of the frog and sing out, "Flies, Dan'l, flies!" and quicker'n you could wink, he'd spring straight up, and snake a fly off'n the counter there, and flop down on the floor again as solid as a gob of mud, and fall to scratching the side of his head with his hind foot as indifferent as if he hadn't no idea he'd been doin' any more'n any frog might do. You never see a frog so modest and straightforward as he was, for all he was so gifted. And when it come to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he could get over more ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see. Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit, you understand; and when it come to that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley was monstrous proud of his frog, and well he might be, for fellers that had traveled and been everywheres, all said he laid over any frog that ever they see.
Well, Smiley kept the beast in a little lattice box, and he used to fetch him down town sometimes and lay for a bet. One day a feller a stranger in the camp, he was come across him with his box, and says:
"What might it be that you've got in the box?"
And Smiley says, sorter indifferent like, "It might be a parrot, or it might be a canary, may be, but it an't it's only just a frog."
And the feller took it, and looked at it careful, and turned it round this way and that, and says, "H'm so 'tis. Well, what's he good for?"
"Well," Smiley says, easy and careless, "He's good enough for one thing, I should judge he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county."
The feller took the box again, and took another long, particular look, and give it back to Smiley, and says, very deliberate, "Well, I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n any other frog."
"May be you don't," Smiley says. "May be you understand frogs, and may be you don't understand 'em; may be you've had experience, and may be you an't only a amature, as it were. Anyways, I've got my opinion, and I'll risk forty dollars that he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county."
And the feller studied a minute, and then says, kinder sad like, "Well, I'm only a stranger here, and I an't got no frog; but if I had a frog, I'd bet you."
And then Smiley says, "That's all right that's all right if you'll hold my box a minute, I'll go and get you a frog." And so the feller took the box, and put up his forty dollars along with Smiley's, and set down to wait.
So he set there a good while thinking and thinking to hisself, and then he got the frog out and prized his mouth open and took a tea- spoon and filled him full of quail shot filled him pretty near up to his chin and set him on the floor. Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in the mud for a long time, and finally he ketched a frog, and fetched him in, and give him to this feller, and says:
"Now, if you're ready, set him alongside of Dan'l, with his fore- paws just even with Dan'l, and I'll give the word." Then he says, "One two three jump!" and him and the feller touched up the frogs from behind, and the new frog hopped off, but Dan'l give a heave, and hysted up his shoulders so like a Frenchman, but it wan's no use he couldn't budge; he was planted as solid as an anvil, and he couldn't no more stir than if he was anchored out. Smiley was a good deal surprised, and he was disgusted too, but he didn't have no idea what the matter was, of course.
The feller took the money and started away; and when he was going out at the door, he sorter jerked his thumb over his shoulders this way at Dan'l, and says again, very deliberate, "Well, I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better'n any other frog."
Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Dan'l a long time, and at last he says, "I do wonder what in the nation that frog throw'd off for I wonder if there an't something the matter with him he 'pears to look mighty baggy, somehow." And he ketched Dan'l by the nap of the neck, and lifted him up and says, "Why, blame my cats, if he don't weigh five pound!" and turned him upside down, and he belched out a double handful of shot. And then he see how it was, and he was the maddest man he set the frog down and took out after that feller, but he never ketchd him. And-
[Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard, and got up to see what was wanted.] And turning to me as he moved away, he said: "Just set where you are, stranger, and rest easy I an't going to be gone a second."
But, by your leave, I did not think that a continuation of the history of the enterprising vagabond Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much information concerning the Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and so I started away.
At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning, and he button- holed me and recommenced:
"Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yeller one-eyed cow that didn't have no tail, only jest a short stump like a bannanner, and "
"Oh! hang Smiley and his afflicted cow!" I muttered, good-naturedly, and bidding the old gentleman good-day, I departed.
http://etext.virginia.edu/railton/projects/price/frog.htm

But I noticed that in your Twain story that He says " I never saw people enjoy anything more than this gathering enjoyed this fight. The case was the same with old gray-heads and with boys of ten. They lost themselves in frenzies of delight. The 'cocking-main' is an inhuman sort of entertainment, there is no question about that; still, it seems a much more respectable and far less cruel sport than fox-hunting--for the cocks like it; they experience, as well as confer enjoyment; which is not the fox's case."
Now you want to talk about fox hunting?

Except that this supposed "need to euthanize them" that your rationale assumes is nothing but bullshit.

well there you go............... I was at a guys house tonight and he had a rooster on tie cord that was sick. I asked him what happened to it and a pen blew over in a wind storm, and this rooster got in a fight with another rooster through a wire cage....no audience...no steroids...no gaffs...no anything except a natural desire to fight.

Really. Well then what should we do with them turn them loose into the countryside?

Why would you feel the need or even want to do anything with them at all

pops


They're illegal aliens.

Can this gamecock be saved?

FBI agents raided Tennessee's "notorious" Del Rio Cockfight Pit on Saturday. Federal and state law enforcement officials seized $40,000 in cash and recovered about 300 game-bred roosters. After the raid, the roosters were euthanized under the direction of the Humane Society of the United States. Are fighting birds ever rehabilitated?

Very few people have tried. Roosters aren't very popular as pets, and animal welfare workers assume that other gamecock owners would be the only ones willing to adopt them. Since gamecocks can't cohabit peacefully, attempts to rehabilitate them would have to include solitary confinement—which itself may be inhumane.

The fighting birds at Del Rio included roosters that had been brought across state lines in violation of federal law. The birds' owner or owners could have been subject to a per-bird fine of up to $15,000. As a result, no one who was present at the pit claimed any of the gamecocks, which were then euthanized without delay.

If a breeder did claim ownership, the state would house the birds at a shelter until the end of the criminal trial. This can be quite costly, since each gamecock must be kept separate from the others and some need veterinary care. (In Tennessee and a few other states, if a criminal defendant is found guilty, then he can be forced to pay these costs.)

There isn't much hope for fighting dogs, either. According to the Humane Society, game-bred dogs should also be killed when dogfight and hog-dog rings are broken up. A pit bull that's bred for fighting will often be calm around humans but very aggressive with other dogs. The possibility of dog-on-dog attacks can present enough legal liability that a rescue adoption is impossible. In most cases, the dogs—like the birds—are held at a shelter until the outcome of a trial and then either returned to their owner or euthanized.

Many rescue groups do try to rehabilitate fighting dogs. Trainers say that an animal's chance for reform depends upon its personality. Workers at animal shelters can apply a "temperament test" to a dog with a questionable background. The test might involve observing the dog interacting with food or toys, or meeting and greeting other dogs and human strangers.



Next question?


http://slate.msn.com/id/2120783/

Technically so are you... but no one wants to do you in... Yet

No because they were euthanized in mass (in the most inhumane way by throwing them alive into a 55 gal drum letting them fight while the air in the drum was pumped out and carbon monoxide was pumped in) under the direction of the Humane Society of the United States (who are not a Humane Society at all and had no legal standing as a law enforcement entity in this or any other case)

pops


Yes, which makes me all the angrier at the cockers for producing these birds in order for them to die an inhumane death either in the pit, or drum. I don't advocate destroying them but I see no alternative. Maybe one day there won't be any birds left to destroy by either party.

That’s bullshit and you know it. You might refer back to your Mark Twain piece he said “for the cocks like it; they experience, as well as confer enjoyment”.

Right. You think a sliced up, gouged, bleeding to death eyeless staggering exhausted bird is having a fucking good time. Whatever helps you sleep at night when your meds don't kick in.

Well If he wasn't he could leave at any time...

Prove it. I've seen pictures of those rings....

Seen pictures you say? Hell you stupid twat you posted one
You'll notice that they are nearly 2 and a half feet high, a highth that a rooster could easly jump over

JESUS GRACE.. Are you honestly that empty headed? The roosters are harming no one so no need to do anything with them...You again give a pass to the "humaniacs" who literally just threw a few roosters into a drum. The roosters immediately start beating the hell outta one another and the 'HUMANIACS' put a plexiglass cover over the barrel with a hole in it. They ran a tube from the muffler of a vehicle through the hole in the plexiglass. THATS how they killed em grace and it is YOUR fault and people like you who can't mind their own fucking business. ( I assume this was the method as this is how the cocks at a raid a while back were killed at DEL RIO ( hell may be the same raid)
As far as the roosters not being able to leave at any time, once again you KNOW it is true but to admit it would weaken your argument. The rules are specifically designed to allow a rooster to quit, as a matter of fact they are kinda set up to ENCOURAGE it as the idea is to see which one WON'T quit. If they CAN'T quit then the idea of determining the most game one would be lost. I have explained to you time and time again that the wire you see around the pits is NOT to keep a cock from being able to run away, it is to keep the fight from spilling out into the crowd. And yes the roosters DO crave it.....how else do you explain them being set down 8 feet apart and tearing into one another in the middle of the ring? Granted they are bred for it but so are race horses and I have never seen someone beat the hell out of a rooster to get him to fight harder.

Whats your point Gracie... That in this type of pit they can't get out? Ever hear of running in circles? The roosters have Oh and you do know that they are birds and like nearly all birds they fly so if they want out it's still up and over cause there is no top...

Steve

Harming no one but each other for man's cheap thrill and profit. They'd not harm each other and die a bloody death if not bred and staged to do it. You make it sound like this is all their idea.

Steve

The lesser of 2 evils. And no free pass to anyone. It's you and your ilk who perpetrate this crime and then hand wring and whine when your chickens are killed by another means. Tough shit.


Steve

It's your fault and people like you for perpetrating this blood sport to begin with. Are you that fucking dense not to see that?


Steve

BULLSHIT. Refer to picture I posted. Leave at any time my ASS. You lie like a soiled rug. And even if there weren't people blocking their way, or cages and fencing blocking their way, if one flew the coop how far would he fucking get before his neck got wrung for doing it? You give that chicken too much credit for your own argument Steve. It's shallow and lame. And would be funny if not so pathetically transparent in that it's dishonest not to mention simpleminded.


Steve

ROTFLMAO. I've heard it all now. Is there some online "debate" course to counter anti's that you take for this specific argument at some moronic cocker board?

Yeah Gracie and if women didn't have a vagina they wouldn't be raped either... what a fucking moron you are

Grace you are indeed a fucking idiot. I can kill em and eat em and that is hunky dorey but let em kill one another and oh my GOD how horrible!!!
The lesser of two evils my fuckin ass. lesser BY YOUR weak kneed spineless definition. A pathetic and pitiful way for a gamecock to die. You have no heart Grace and think that other beings are the same way. You are the type that would die groveling at the feet of your attacker rather than fight back. Gamefowl have fought for thousands of years only recently has it became a crime because of nosey assed fucking idiotic bastards like you. And how does this sport have ANY effect on you AT ALL?
And once again you are intentionally being a fucking moron Grace.. you KNOW the cocks can quit at any time yet you know that admitting that would diminish your already bullshit argument. You can post pictures all you want to but until you are honest ( I know that is hard for you sometimes) it will make no difference. The cocks can and do quit at any time. As a matter of fact at a recent get together a guy I know won 2 fights because his opponents birds......QUIT and ran away! Now explain to me how something that you claim is impossible happened twicew to the same guy in one weekend?
And I don't give a flying fuck how many times you shove ypour fingers in your ears the rules are what they are. You know NOTHING yet you spiut off about it as if you do ( I know that is your normal MO)

you know grace when you post stuff like this that you KNOW is a lie just to get a reaction, you are no less of a troll than you accuse pops or X of being.

Just how does a person troll on a troll board?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fnfNAFPvHVc...feature=related


"A certain amount of aggression between chickens is normal and chickens from different genetic
strains or breeds do show different levels of aggression; for example commercial Broiler- Layer
types do show much less male to male aggression than game-type roosters, However male to
female and male to male aggression is much more pronounced in the broiler breeder roosters. In
addition to animal welfare concerns associated with hen injury and mortality, rising levels of
aggressiveness by broiler breeder males present several problems for producers, relating to
management and to profitability:
1. Hens become fearful of aggressive roosters and avoid them by remaining on the raised
slatted areas of the house. As a result, flock fertility can decrease dramatically.
2. Avoidance of roosters by hens exacerbates the problem so that when hens move off the
slats and into the scratch areas, groups of roosters "mob" and attempt to mate with them.
During these forced mating attempts, hens are injured, and sometimes killed.
3. Hen productivity is likely to be reduced as a result of stress and injuries due to avoidance
of aggressive roosters.
4.Injured hens are more prone to infection and disease, since their wounds quickly become
contaminated. This can make them more likely to be condemned by processing plants at the end
of he lay.
Sorce: Animal Welfare Dilemma of Broiler Breeder Aggressiveness
by Suzanne T. Millman, Ph.D."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fnfNAFPvHVc...feature=related

We?

I don't do a damn thing with them. I leave them alone.

If you were asking for suggestions as to what you should do with them; I would advise you do likewise. It's always a good idea to keep your hands off stuff that doesn't belong to you.

Of course, the chickens that end up in your fryer were free to leave at any time prior to meeting that end.

Or did they sign a contract?

Pop's rebuttal is valid, Grace. You're blaming the victims again.

It looks to me like a rooster could escape from either the main or the drags in that picture.

Are fryers and broilers provided a means of egress from their cages?

what grace fails to realize is that gamecocks will fight in the middle of a football field and not run away.. I mean she realizes it but she fails to admit it...And the rooster does not have to "escape" the enclosure to escape his opponent. It is amazing how fast a " tortured and abused , near dead" rooster can run when he has decided he has had enough.

she doesn't fail to admit it , she simply refuses to admit it, if she ever did, then she would have to admit that real life is not a fucking Disney movie

Steve

I'm going to throw 2 shits to the wind and appeal to fallacy of mass appeal.

If no one agrees with you, you should be quite worried. If only a small number of people agree with you, you still should be quite worried. I don’t think it’s a numbers game, but I think whatever view you end up with, it doesn’t have to be a majority point of view, that reasons have weight, not just adding up whoever agrees with you. But you still ought to say at the end of the day, look all those other people are against me, maybe I think I’m right probability 57 to 43, but on any truly controversial question among intelligent people, you should never think it’s 95 to 5 in your favor.


Yes, you can kill em and eat em (so long as you kill em humanely), although roosters I believe are stringey and tough, but you cannot abuse them for entertainment. I don't make up the rules. I had nothing to do with laws being passed. I wasn't out there campaigning or boycotting. I didn't cast a vote. Wasn't me.


Steve

And this has to do with?


Steve




I believe people who derive enjoyment from watching animals slice each otherto a bloody pulp are macabre. There's something askew in their heads. It's crueltly at its worst. Why do people enjoy suffering?


Steve

Something need not affect my life directly to cause angst. Bullfighting also doesn't affect me directly, but knowing it takes place somewhere causes angst. Making it difficult or impossible for people to continue animal bloodsports is satisfying as there subsequently will be a little less animal cruelty in the world. And that's always a good thing.

They've been bred for many, many generations to have this artificial level of aggression against others of their own species." Punctured lungs, broken bones, and pierced eyes are just a few of the injuries birds sustain during fights, experts say.

In recent weeks police raids have shut down operations in Arkansas, California, Colorado, and North Carolina. Gambling is the norm at cockfights, with thousands of dollars exchanging hand. Law-enforcement officials also say drugs are sold at some events. Leber of the Gamefowl Breeders Association admits criminals and drugs are present. "However, this is more of a symptom of our culture and not tied specifically to this industry," he said.




Steve


The argument whether cocks can quit anytime or fly away [to freedom?] anytime is irrelevant at this point, except flying away to freedom is a fucking fairytale. If a rooster didn't fight he'd be killed by his handler. If a rooster flew over the ring, he'd be killed by his handler. A rooster cannot deduce his situation and yes, he does what 'comes natural' since he's been bred, conditioned, equipped oftentimes with deadly apparatus to do so.


Steve


Where'd the chickens run to? Were they killed?

RF


Not an option. And I'd say your advice fell on deaf ears.

Grace


RF



pops

Why are we talking about chickens in the fryer? Who is arguing they're free to leave at anytime. Not me.

Steve

Yes it is horrible this butchery called cockfighting is entertainment. But there's a difference between killing for the sake of killing, which serves no purpose except to entertain a bunch of neandrathals stuck in "tradition", and killing for food. Do we allow food animals to battle it out to death in a ring? And just because something is tradition for thousands of years isn't valid reason to continue another thousand. There is a tradition of cutting off the clitoris of young African girls, so this too we must keep as well? Tradition doesn't make it right. It's sick to take pleasure, place bets, hoot and holler while watching an animal suffer and die. You are morally bankrupt.

Oh now theres an adult retort just sick your fingers in your ears and shout "LALALALALALALALA!!! I can't hear you!!! LALALALALALALA!!!"