The Toecutter
The Patron Saint of Filth
Train hopping is perhaps the cheapest way possible to get around long distances. I've never tried it, but I've always wanted to and the guides here are excellent. Anyhow, I have a story which was told to me that is not for the squeamish. If you are squeamish, or an animal lover, you may not want to read this very short story. You've been warned. This is your chance to stop reading. Scroll down below for the story.
My step mother grew up in the 1960s. When she was about 7, she saw a slow-moving freight train riding by her house at roughly walking speed. There was a large dog, possibly a German Shepherd mix, having fun running back and forth in-between the train cars, like it was a game. The dog kept running back and forth for the next minute or so having fun and enjoying the game.
All of a sudden, there was a deafening and shrill yelping, the dog's way of screaming out in agony, as she could see the front of the dog laying 100 or so feet away between where she was standing and next to the still-moving train, entrails hanging about, and the back half of the dog, entirely missing. It continued yelping for about two minutes or so before bleeding out and finally dying. The train engineer would not have been able to stop the train, even if he wanted to. In all likelihood, the engineer had zero indication that the train killed anything or anyone at all, since the train kept on rolling. After the train passed, there was half of a dog carcass. The back half of the dog was missing entirely. She recounted to me that this was the most disturbing thing she had ever witnessed. The train kept on moving.
While I did not witness this first hand and this occurred more than half of a century ago, there is a valuable lesson to be learned. The moral of the story is: respect trains. DON'T be that dog.
My step mother grew up in the 1960s. When she was about 7, she saw a slow-moving freight train riding by her house at roughly walking speed. There was a large dog, possibly a German Shepherd mix, having fun running back and forth in-between the train cars, like it was a game. The dog kept running back and forth for the next minute or so having fun and enjoying the game.
All of a sudden, there was a deafening and shrill yelping, the dog's way of screaming out in agony, as she could see the front of the dog laying 100 or so feet away between where she was standing and next to the still-moving train, entrails hanging about, and the back half of the dog, entirely missing. It continued yelping for about two minutes or so before bleeding out and finally dying. The train engineer would not have been able to stop the train, even if he wanted to. In all likelihood, the engineer had zero indication that the train killed anything or anyone at all, since the train kept on rolling. After the train passed, there was half of a dog carcass. The back half of the dog was missing entirely. She recounted to me that this was the most disturbing thing she had ever witnessed. The train kept on moving.
While I did not witness this first hand and this occurred more than half of a century ago, there is a valuable lesson to be learned. The moral of the story is: respect trains. DON'T be that dog.