The smaller man through the large, limp object into the river and I snapped a photo through a hole in the boat. It made a recognisable thump in the mud. They began to walk up the hill and I scurried off the sandbar into the brush. I snatched up my shotgun and began slowly to walk toward the ramp to investigate. A last gunshot echoed across the river and I arrived at the boat ramp. There was no car and no people- I continued to the river. A trail of blood led me from a wet spot near the tree line to the body on the muddy bank. It was a dog. A young, beautiful bulldog with a shot to it's forehead and an exit wound in its neck. Its blood was absorbed by the snad and mud-
A sad sight, but it couldve been worse!