The circles of my mind

While walking the dog this morning, I realised that it was two weeks' today that those children were killed at Sandy Hook elementary school and I started mentally drafting a post about gun control.  I had marshalled impressive arguments guaranteed to demolish those of the National Rifle Association and even the Supreme Court in its 2008 ruling in the case of the District of Columbia v Heller.  I also - mentally - counselled against any knee-jerk reactions.

I fired up the computer and was about to start typing what was in my mind when a further thought stopped me.  It really is none of my business.  Granted, I can have an opinion but in this matter it is probably better that I keep my opinion to myself and leave it to teh citizens of the USA to argue and decide what action, if any, should be taken.

We have seen knee-jerk reactions in this country, notably after the Dunblane massacre of 1996.  Many consider that the Dangerous Dogs Act is another example.  Under his act the pit bull terrier is classed as a dangerous dog and is outlawed.  There are those who claim that no dog is inherently dangerous; only the owners are, and they train the dogs to be vicious as well.  Doesn't matter if it's a pit bull or a chihuahua, any dog can be trained to be dangerous.

Of course, there are also those who claim that every dog is potentially dangerous - and, indeed, they are probably correct.  But the same could be said of cats.  After all, both dogs and cats are essentially hunting animals which will kill for their food.  Maybe if we want to keep pets we should stick to ruminants like cows or sheep.  But hold it - they can be dangerous, too.  We occasionally hear of walkers being trampled to death by cows.  Indeed, I have been obliged to get out of a field quickly when a cow thought the dog I had with me on a lead was a danger to her calf.  I should add that I was on a public footpath and not just walking anywhere I chose.  And there was the young ram owned by my cousin.  He considered that anybody who entered his field was a rival and would attempt to butt with his horns in the firing position.  It was essential to carry a spade to be held in front of one's important parts when seeing to that flock of sheep!

Maybe a goldfish is the answer.

~~~~~

Earlier this month we had two or three dry days and I was able to get up to the Roman Camp with the dog.  This picture shows the rampart in the south-western corner with the remains of the ditch alongside.