Hanny, the doberman, still lives.

In fact, a couple of weeks ago he brought his reign of terror down on a small puppy being walked past by its owner.

Hanny had his leashed tied off, saw the young pup and broke my clothes line getting loose. By the time I caught up with him, the pup was between Hanny’s jaws on the ground.

True story, but no injury.

Hanny now has many lumps that are starting to swell. Simply put, he’s entering what I shall term the swoon portion of his life. One of my friend’s says we are going to be burying the doberman by as early as next weekend. Another says by the end of the summer.

He’s been a decent mate for more than a year now, but just seems like we will not be listening to him whine while we feed the horses much longer.

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