Um… yes. If the “other” represented a threat to my own kin. There’s no question about it even.
If some murderous stranger attacked my fiancee, you actually think I’d hesitate to bash him on the head with a shovel? If some anonymous weirdo attacked my child, I’m going to defend my child. A stray dog attacks my pet, I’m going to defend my pet.
Yes, I’d feel horrible and would probaby be haunted for the rest of my life if my actions had to result in the death of the murderous stranger, anonymous weirdo, or stray dog, but realistically, no, I would not hesitate to kill the “other” if the alternative was to sacrifice my “own”. That’s just my inner caveman doing his natural papa bear thing.
Now in the case of the above post where a stray was generally interfering with my pets’ well-being, I’d probably just do a “trap and relocate”. Even with feral cats and dogs, there are rescue programs here for them.
(My cat Squiggy was a feral cat that was deemed “unadoptable” by one program, but was accepted into a “special needs” adoption program and is now a tame and dopey housecat).
I post this only because it’s the IMHO board, and my assumption is that you’re looking for as much input as possible on the question. Thus, my answer is simply, “ditto.”
And to elucidate some, we (my wife and I) live in the country, and our animals provide services to our home. Both dogs serve as intrusion alarms, the Yorkshire terrier keeps the close yard and gardens free of rabbits, the yellow Lab chases off the deer and coyotes, and the cats are, of course, good mousers. All of this in addition to their affection and companionship. I would not hesitate to use deadly force to defend any of our animals against a threat from a stray.
Interesting, I find the catch and release, or the dumping of cats somewhere else far more despicable than just shooting them. You are moving them from a place where they have sources of food, water, hierarchy to where they are the strangers and have to find new sources. We tried to chase the cat out several times over a couple of days, but on that very cold day, my cats were able to exercise their superiority by being a member of my family.
My cats are outside, not to fend for themselves, but to defend our house and buildings against mice and other invaders. If they are our infantry, I am their air-support. I don’t enjoy having to do that, but such is life out in the country sometimes.
We are after all not talking about the “dumping” of a housecat into completely unfamiliar territory. One alley is much like another. Even though you seem to be in a more rural area than I was imagining, if this is a cat that had been surviving on its own (apparently quite robustly) in one setting that is proximate to humans while not being domesticated, I don’t see how placing it in another, similar context would be tantamount to a slow death sentence. Though one might make a valid objection to it being a “passing of the ethical buck” to the next set of humans that cat might then beplague. (Is that a word, “beplague”? Well, it is now.)
In fact in a rural setting I might agree with you that shooting is the more expedient solution. If you’re the only farm for miles, for example, the cat is likely to just find its way back to bother you again after a few days, or else become a nuisance to your neighbors who will either do the dirty deed themselves or blame you for the trouble (or both). The extent you’d have to go to find somewhere far enough away that it will stay away may simply be more trouble than the poor animal’s life is worth to anybody that counts in the equation.
Me too. I was out running with my dog, who was on a leash. We ran in front of a house with a dog, unleashed, much bigger than mine, who started running after us. Noticing this larger dog, I picked up the pace but the dog still caught up really quickly and started aggressively fighting with my dog. She put up a good fight but didn’t stand a chance, and I couldn’t break up the fight my simply yanking on her leash.
So I yanked my dog away by her leash and when the larger dog went in to bite her again, I kicked it as hard as I could right in it’s chest. It seemed to have gotten the wind knocked out of it as it kind of winced on the ground, but it got up, tail between its legs, and wimpered away. It’s owners stood on the porch the whole time watching the exchange. They looked like they were about to get pissed off and yell something to me about kicking their dog, so before they got the chance I yelled “put your fucking dog on a leash!” Surprisingly, after I said that, they looked a little ashamed and never said a word.
I don’t enjoy having to do that, but such is life out in the country sometimes.