The old (black) lady next door to me lets her grandson breed and raise pits in chicken-wire coops in her backyard. I’m sure they’re fighting dogs, because they get sold and go away at a certain point, and these dogs have no human contact. He comes in once in a while and takes the puppies away and throws a bag of straw and droppings out for the city to take away (the place stinks).
If that old lady ever falls down within range when she totters out there, she’ll be fodder.
I’ve been watching an Italian detective show. One epi, year forgotten, managed to work a charity providing assistant dogs into a mystery involving drugs, tax evasion, murder, and of course, dog fighting.
Never mind the old lady, what about you? Doesn’t it scare you to think a dog might get out someday?