One of our shortest-lived pets, Buddy bonded to Mom insanely for reasons we never did quite understand. He was hit by someone, and we had a cast put on his leg. Right after he'd healed, a Tennessee hick driving 65mph on a road covered in ice and snow (with a 40mph speed limit) hit him and broke it a second time. He had to be put down.

Mom's the one who opened the door and dealt with him, and I didn't know what was going on until after he'd already left. I would have at the least punched him in the face, and most likely beaten him senseless. Anyone who drives that fast on *ice* is an irresponsible hazard who should be executed for the good of humanity as a whole. If only I knew his name, I'd check up periodically to see if he's alive or not - and when his stupidity finally catches up with him, and he dies... I'd make a trip to his grave to urinate upon it.