Ranchers- The "Godfathers" of the West?!?

My story is both long and complex so I will try to break it down into short, easily digestible items. Some things will, of course, be omitted due to space restrictions and my memory. I am currently trying to compare all I remember with what others remember happening to my family. I've only included the things I personally recall right now, without the aid of my journals.

The 20 acres was supposed to be the site of our dream house. We had been planning for six years to build this house and now we were on our way to getting it done. We started buying supplies and constructing a natural fence, made from the many downed dead trees littering our land. The effect was an almost impenetrable fence- even our best canine "escape artist" couldn't figure a way through it. On several occasions we came out to the land to find some of the trees had been dragged by a truck to allow cattle on our land. We kept working on our house, figuring the problem of the trespassing cows would be fixed once we moved out there permanently.

The major significance of this event is the fact that the dog was both chained and within a fenced yard. One should also note the close proximity to the back door. We did this for safety reasons, obviously: we thought if someone entered our back yard, the dog would bark and alert us. The night in question, someone entered our yard and came within 25 feet of our back door. I draw attention to this because directly on the other side of that door was my then not-quite-two-year-old son's bedroom. When we took our pet to the local vet's office, some of the poison was expelled. The attendant identified it as fire-ant poison, as she was sight familiar with this substance in relation to accidental domestic animal poisonings. The poison was administered in meat- our pets were all always trained not to accept any foodstuffs from anyone but my husband or myself, but we had trouble getting them to refuse meat. My husband found a trail of footprints from the dog to our back fence- the fence was bent down. We had also seen a car parked out behind our house during the night but thought nothing of it. Our house was right near the runway for the Taylor Municipal Airport, so there were often vehicle back there. This crime was reported to the local police.

This event should be highlighted for a few reasons. One is the inadequacy of the police handling. My husband found easily identifiable footprints (man's size 10-ish cowboy boots) and other evidence that was promptly disregarded. We were unfortunately still under the impression the local PD was there to HELP us. This time the puppy that was taken not only belonged to my little son, but the pen he was stolen from was 10 feet away from the baby's bedroom. This seemed like another threat averted because of the sacrifice of a loyal pet. I contacted national & local animal rights organizations. A fund was established to provide a reward for information regarding the crimes against our furry friends. An employee of a local animal organization told us they had gotten several (more than 10) calls from people regarding our pets. Everyone declined the reward money ($2500 is a pretty good sum in Taylor) but anonymously gave the same 2 names: a father and son, 60's and 40's respectively, both ranchers. At the time, the father was the First Council to the Bishop at the local LDS (Mormon) church.

Two of the witnesses to the July 2001 killing were good friends of ours, one with extensive lifelong experience with animals. This friend was intimately acquainted with all manner of animal maladies, including accidental poisonings and dehydration. The officer who came out to our house suggested that our pet Willie was suffering from dehydration, even though he showed all the signs of poisoning that our first pet did. Our friend pointed out that the symptoms were not dehydration, but poisoning and still the officer insisted. Willie, like our first poisoned pet, was chained 25 feet from our back door, within our fenced back yard. In fact he was in the same spot exactly as our first pet. This time it was both our son (2) and daughter (1) were asleep on the other side of the door. More calls pointing the finger at the same two LDS ranchers. At this point, we were just trying to hold the bad guys off long enough to get our babies out of the danger area so we could come back and make a stand. We were convinced we would eventually win the right to live out our dream in this place we had made our home. Our friends reassured us with supportive statements, and asked us not to run- to stay and fight. We planned to. My husband, myself and our two children, ages 2 & 3 were inside. I was 3 months pregnant at the time. My then-3-year-old son looked out the back window and saw the man with the gun. He asked us why the ninja was pointing at us. The uniformed officer, upon noticing our kids in the car turned his head away from the car (facing the man in black) and shouted "My son has a Clifford blanket just like that!". (My son was wrapped in his Clifford blanket). With that the officer told us to have a good night and sent us on our way, almost running back to his car. He never even ran my husband's ID, but a friend of ours with a police scanner said he had heard my husband get pulled over. They called it in as a "suspicious person, lone occupant" call. We had an easily recognizable license plate, and there were two adults and two children in the car. I will not postulate here what the possible outcomes might have been, I am just glad nothing worse happened. Since then I've done research on our rancher: he was not only the area president of the Cattlemen's Association, he was also the first council to the Bishop at the local Mormon Church. This makes him one small man with too much power. The evidence presented me to affirm his guilt in the crimes against my family is overwhelming, I've only highlighted the main points here. He is responsible for depriving me, of robbing my family of our right to pursue our happiness. He stole from me my way of life, when I was doing nothing to hurt anyone. That is why I hate the rancher, and why I think it is my duty to make his way of life, which hurts not only other people but also the environment, obsolete.

**And to those kind, confused people who have suggested that my tale is a fictional one I say, please begin litigation to make me remove this page from the internet. As your good LDS brothers who perpetrated the crimes of domestic terrorism against my family haven't made a peep about the validity of my words, perhaps you shouldn't either. They haven't made a move to stop my book or movie (which are soon forthcoming as well). Accept it. Sometimes people do very bad things to other people and they deserve to be, if not punished, then publicly exposed for the evil they do behind their pseudo-religious facade.**

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

Martin Luther King


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