Trump VP contender Kristi Noem is killing it.

"It" being her 14-month-old puppy, an old goat, and political career.

Ed. note: The Resistant Grandmother is one of millions of Americans who adores her dog — in my case, a beloved 10-year-old Pekingese.  So it was with a heavy heart I heard the news about South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem’s shooting to death her 14-month-old wirehaired pointer, Cricket.  

Finding the puppy to be “untrainable” and “worthless,” apparently Noem had ruled out getting a trainer, finding it a new home, or simply being patient as dogs of that breed are known for sometimes being slow to mature. Instead, she chose the cruelest option: killing it.  Adding insult to cruelty, Noem seems to be boasting about it in her new book, titled ironically, No Going Back, due out in May.

Since Noem has been on Trump’s short list for VP candidates, the South Dakota governor may have believed the story would boost her chances. The theory goes, “Trump and MAGA prizes a tough, even cruel brand of politics. And killing Cricket would position Noem as a leader in the MAGA cruelty-as-politics game.

But since the first account of the story came out early Monday in The Guardian newspaper, Noem’s cruelty has backfired. And the backlash is wide and universal. Turns out dog lovers reside within all political camps.  And as today’s The Guardian reports it may also have violated South Dakota law involving shooting animals.  So what was thought to be a reason to kickstart Noem’s case to join Trump instead has almost certainly doomed it.  Noem’s elected stint as governor of the Mount Rushmore State, thanks to now having killed Cricket, may be her last. 

TRG’s questions for the South Dakota dog owner
But Noem’s slipping fortunes have not stopped TRG from taking the opportunity to mock the governor while first asking a few questions:

First, the questions…
1)  Noem used a shock collar on Cricket, but why not simply train her to be more obedient by frequently leash-walking the dog? To that point, why wasn’t Cricket restrained by being leashed in the truck? Seems like the failure to take some of these well-known precautions was setting Cricket up for failure – and death.

2) Overactive dogs benefit from lots of activity.  If Noem were concerned Cricket might go ballistic during the pheasant hunt, she should have taken Cricket for a long walk ahead of time. That’s dog training 101.

3) In addition to day-time activity, evenings also offer opportunities for dog-calming. Playing cool jazz, calm classical music, or even soft rain sounds help dogs fall asleep and self-soothe when awake.

Incredible to believe that someone auditioning to be Vice President wouldn’t have cared enough to have done the research or hired someone who could have helped the dog in any of these ways.

Without yet reading Noem’s book, the South Dakota governor’s stubbornness, naivete, and/or mean streak has inspired TRG to imagine how the decision to put down Cricket may have played out in her book. It follows, below.

A reimagined memoir
TRG’s IMAGINED EXCERPT FROM KRISTI NOEM’S MEMOIR, BASED IMAGINATIVELY ON NEWS ACCOUNTS OF WHAT HAPPENED IN NO GOING BACK…

NOEM (CLUELESS):  OK, Cricket. Let’s go. Today’s the day of the big pheasant hunt and there’ll be lots of our other dogs, a couple adult humans carrying long guns, and we’ll all be stomping around some marshy places a puppy like you could easily sink into.  That should help calm you down, eh puppy?  In the meantime, I’ll let you run around our electronic fence-enclosed yard and get you all shocked up for the day. Sound good?

CRICKET: Woof Woof!

(A FEW HOURS LATER, AFTER THE PHEASANT HUNT) NOEM, TO SELF:  Well, it turns out that no-good varmint got so excited retrieving all the dead pheasants we shot down she just made a fool of h’self – beating the other dogs to those dead carcasses.  Showin’ up all our other dogs made ‘em feel so bad.  

(NOEM TO CRICKET: Kind of uppity for a puppy like you to be that excited, eh, Cricket? I don’t know what to do with you, you little b—, unless…. (NOEM BEGINS TO THINK DARK THOUGHTS.)

(SHE THROWS CRICKET INTO THE PICKUP BED OF HER TRUCK. CRICKET YELPS AND JUMPS AROUND AT FIRST BECAUSE OF THE SUN-HEATED METAL..)  

NOEM, THINKING WHILE DRIVING: Good thing that no-account dog is ridin’ in the back of the truck, being thrown from side to side and up and down as I drive over these bumpy South Dakota roads.  I’ll just stop for a few minutes to let her smell them chickens at my friend’s chicken farm while my neighbor and me talk.  Smell shouldn’t be much different from them pheasants, come to think of it.  But I’m sure Cricket’ll be OK back there. (THEN) She better be!

The chickens!
(NOEM STOPS, HOPS DOWN FROM THE TRUCK’S CAB AND WAVES HELLO TO HER NEIGHBOR)

NOEM: Just thought I’d stop and leave my hyperactive dog Cricket back there to soak up some hot sun while we talk a spell.  So, good e’en, my friend!

NEIGHBOR: Howdy, Gov’nor.  Look at all my chickens running around! Aren’t they just the best?  Did you come to buy some to kill for supper?

(CRICKET BOLTS FROM THE TRUCK’S BED AND RUNS OVER TO THE CHICKENS.  HAVING HAD NOTHING TO EAT ALL DAY, SHE LUNGES AT THEM – CRACKING A FEW NECKS RIGHT OFF THE BAT.)

NOEM: Cricket, stop that! Stop, stop, stop!
(NOEM PULLS A COUPLE OF DEAD CHICKENS FROM CRICKET’S MOUTH. CRICKET HAS NOT ONLY MADE HER MAD, BUT NOW EMBARRASSED! THE NERVE!)

(NOEM WRITING OUT A CHECK TO NEIGHBOR): “Oh, my god.  I’m so sorry!  I’ll pay you for everything! And I don’t mind telling you, this does it with Cricket. I’ll take care of her, but good!”

NEIGHBOR ACCEPTING CHECK: Well, no harm no fowl, Gov’nor – get it! (THEY LAUGH) But seriously…I know someone who would love to have that dog. Lives alone, doesn’t have chickens.  I could give you her…)

NOEM: Nah, I’ll take care of things.  We do this all the time…

Doomed…
(NOEM SCOOPS CRICKET UP AND WALKS BACK TO THE TRUCK, DUMPING THE PUPPY AGAIN ON THE HOT METAL BED IN THE BACK) “You little assassin! You’ve humiliated me for the last time you little p****r!  It’s time Mama made sure of that.

THEY DRIVE TO THE GRAVEL PIT ON THE NOAMS’ PROPERTY.  SO FAR, IT HOLDS ONLY WATER FROM LAST NIGHT’S RAIN AND NO ANIMAL CARCASSES. THAT WAS ABOUT TO CHANGE.)

(NOEM TO CRICKET, PULLING DOWN THE BACK GATE OF THE PICKUP, PICKING UP HER RIFLE SITTING MENACINGLY NEXT TO THE PUPPY) Get out, Cricket, darlin’.  Mama wants you to get a little exercise today…
(THEY WALK TO THE PIT) NOEM: Now, darlin’.  Run down into the bottom of that hole for Mama. Go on, now.  (CRICKET SENSES DANGER AND WHIPS AROUND TO BITE NOEM, WHO PUSHES HER HARD DOWN INTO THE PIT.) 

WITH CRICKET NOW AT THE BOTTOM, NOEM RAISES HER RIFLE, SEES CRICKET IN ITS SIGHT, AND FIRES – BLAM! CRICKET FALLS DEAD).

NOEM TO CRICKET: Buh bye now, you little chicken-killer. I hated you. ‘Ja notice?  But you’re not gonna bother Mama anymore.

(AS NOEM WALKS BACK TO THE TRUCK, LEAVING CRICKET TO THE BUZZARDS NOW CIRCLING EXCITEDLY OVERHEAD, SHE REMINDS HERSELF OF ANOTHER ANIMAL THAT’S BEEN BOTHERING HER LATELY – THAT SMELLY, OBNOXIOUS OLD GOAT WHO THINKS HE’S ALL THAT IN THE BARNYARD!  WELL, I’LL SHOW HIM. 

WALKING BACK TO THE PICKUP, SHE FINDS HER RIFLE, COCKS IT, AND THROWS IT AGAIN IN THE TRUCK BED WHERE THAT OTHER PESKY CRITTER HAD BEEN SITTING ONLY A FEW MINUTES AGO.)

NOEM TO SELF: Yep, this is a good day for killin’, and a good place. It’s time that disgusting, stinkin’, musky, mean old goat also meets its maker.  It’ll be good for Mama, the farm…and my book.  And sure to impress “the President.”  The old SOB’ll be sure now to vault me to the top of his VP list! Takin’ long enough…
(IN A CLOUD OF DUST, NOEM PEELS OFF BACK TO THE FARM TO PICK UP HER NEXT VICTIM. WITH DIFFICULTY, SHE STUFFS HIM INTO THE BACK OF THE TRUCK. AND THERE, THE SMELLY OLD GOAT ALSO AWAITS HIS FATE.)

– trg

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