Gator be Gone.

Tony,
I don't know if you can help me or not.  I got this problem and it's kinda sensitive.  I mean it ain't really against the law...well, maybe a little bit. Anyway...

You know that little ole dawg that Darlene has, Flossie?  Maybe you remember, it's a Yorkie.  Just a lil ole brown fur ball.  And Darlene loves that dog.  I ain't complaining.  She let's me have a real dawg, that ole blue tick hound.  But she's really crazy 'bout her dog.  One time she even saved it's life.  Flossie was out by the highway an got hit by a truck. Knocked her plume out.  I thought she was graveyard dead for sure.  Darlene saw it all happen through the front window of the double wide and lit out.  She was a squalling' an running' bout fast as she could go.  I was glad nobody was around cause she had just took a shower and didn't have nothin' on be a pair of ragged shorts and her make-up. Hey, Darlene puts her make-up on before she puts her drawers on.  I lit out after her and by the time I caught up she was givin' that lil dog mouth-to-mouth.  Well, I'll be de-double dog damned it Flossie didn't start back a-breathing.  It was quite a sight.  A half-nekkid woman sitting' by the side of the road with a lil ole Yorkie lickin' the tears off her face.  Darlene might  be the high side of forty but she can still turn heads at the beer joint on Saturday night. Oh, yeah, and Flossie wore that lipstick for a month after the incident. Had to tell that story over and over.  I'm telling you all this just so you know how crazy my wife is about her dog.

We live in a double wide down here on the lake and you done fished from our dock. So it probably won't come as no surprise to you that we got gators in the lake.  And that's all right if they don't come around and scare the hell out of your wife's lil dog.  But if they do, and one did, you gotta do something. And I did.  I believe the the best solution to the gator problem was a 30-06. I shot him dead.  Didn't take but one shot.  Course I had to hide the evidence 'cause I ain't got no alligator license. I throwed a rope around his tail, jumped in that ole plywood boat of mine and cranked that 1953 Johnson.  I towed him about two miles up the lake and left em there figuring that some of his buddies would make supper out of em.  I knowed I had solved the problem and matrimonial bliss would then again enter our double wide.

But, it was not to be. Just about daylight the next morning I heard Flossie out at the dock barkin' and raisin' sand. I figured there was another gator.  But, n-o-o-o-o, it was the same one.  It had floated back to the dock over night.  So, I did the same thing agin, 'cept I went about three miles up the lake.  I was late gettin' to work at the junkyard.

Well, sir, it happened again and I don't know what to do.  Got any good ideas?  I know the people from the Department of Natural Resources can help me.  But if I call them the Game Wardens will probably put me under the jail for killin' a gator. What's I'm gonna do?

Your ole buddy,
Bubba