Sometimes You Just Can't Explain

We had only been living in the little mountain community of Oracle, Arizona for a month or so. We had just purchased the house and moved in and did not yet know the neighbors. Already we had some problems with dogs coming in and scattering trash all over the yard. I set the 12 gauge shotgun by the door and told my wife I was going to kill the next dog that I caught in the trash. One morning our dog began barking and I yelled, "There's a dog in the trash!" and ran past my wife, grabbing the shotgun on the way, and burst out the front door with the gun ready. My wife was right behind me yelling at the top of her lungs, "DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT!"

There in the yard sat a Mexican on a horse, eyes as big as silver dollars, with his hands outspread. He stammered, "I was just going through..." I lowered the shotgun, thought about trying to explain for a bit and then gave it up and waved him on. We never had any of the neighbors or cowhands ride through our place again in the years we lived there.