Funerals are generally sad affairs and that of Donald Clark was no different.
A crowd of uncomfortable folks sat in a funeral home chapel and listened to two preachers and watched Clark's family suffer.
Their period of suffering has been more anguished and protracted than most.
Donald was buried January 24 - 66 days after he died a violent death. Donald's ex-wife and her lover allegedly put a plastic bag over his head and bashed him with a metal baseball bat.
They wrapped his body in the sheets and blanket on which he lay and dumped it in a cornfield.
Through the long investigation, neither exhibited a shred of remorse.
Donald was found on Christmas Eve - a holiday that will never be the same for his surviving loved ones.
From that point until Saturday afternoon, his body was at the state crime lab for all the testing that goes with a high-profile, murder case autopsy.
No one deserves to die like Donald did.
As Donald's coffin was carried to the grave, a bright sun broke through a dreary, daylong haze and his last rites were conducted in the light. It seemed fitting that his body, which lay shrouded and decomposing for weeks, was laid to rest in the light.
That decomposition process denied his family a last look at him - another painful thorn for the grieving.
Through the entire ordeal, Donald's sister Brenda Maddox has been a rock. Her strength has earned my utmost respect.
When all the preaching and praying were done, Brenda distributed flowers among Donald's parents, children and other family members.
One by one they approached the coffin and laid the blossoms atop it.
Their misery was palpable.
I wish everyone responsible for punishing Donald's killers had been there to see it. Sadly, none were.
This case demands swift and severe punishment. Nothing less is acceptable.
This is not a case for plea bargaining or deal making.
It is a case for making a harsh example of two cold-blooded killers who acted with malice on their minds.
Remember that as the story continues to unfold.
Do what you can - use whatever influence you may have - to make sure justice is served.
By the time you read this, the ‘little bastards’ will likely have arrived at my house.
Mr. Webster of the dictionary fortune defines bastard thusly: a person born of parents not married to each other; a child begotten and born out of wedlock; an illegitimate child.
Nowadays, it seems more children are born out of wedlock than in it so the term bastard is used more often to describe someone who cuts you off in traffic or otherwise adds an additional challenge to your day.
In this case, the terminology was not mine but that of a friend speaking of puppies to be born of JJ my purebred, near white Labrador Retriever.
“You can’t let her drop those little bastards outside in this weather,” the friend told me on the phone one night last week as temperatures neared single digits.
Of course, I knew that and had moved JJ inside where it was warm though she is not normally a house dog. At this writing, JJ has lost interest in food and water so birth must be imminent.
The father of these pups is unknown. He may be the black dog I saw slinking around in the yard one night. Whomever he is, he has a grievous injury suffered while getting at JJ through the fence of her kennel.
When I give that account in mixed company, the women all grimace while the men nod knowingly. I wonder why that is?
I do feel some remorse regarding this turn of events and take personal responsibility for it. I wanted to breed JJ and end up with some purebred puppies so I did not have her spayed.
Now I am paying the price.
Dr. Mark Korb warned me that male dogs would go to great lengths to court JJ but I thought that penning her up would do the trick. I was wrong.
Korb related one incident in which a couple locked their chihuahua in the basement when it went into heat. Late one night, they heard shattering glass. A rottweiler had gone through the one window in the basement to get to the young maiden.
Nodding again, aren’t you guys?
With my luck the puppies will arrive on the coldest night of the year and be ugly as sin. But, I will join JJ in nurturing them and find good homes for every last one.
Then, JJ has a date with Korb.
This litter of little bastards will be her last!
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