Arny had been down to “Anger Management Class” more than once. The sheriff was evasive when asked how many, but of course he knew exactly how many times he had intervened between the plaintiff, the DA, and Arny. It was always the end of yet another relationship; I know once it was after the end, it was the new boyfriend that got pulled out of his car and had a bucket of horseshit poured over his head. It was never the same plaintiff twice, so I presume that the DA and the sheriff really were on the same page about the anger management classes as an alternative to some hard time.

Arny and his horse lived for hunting season. He quit shaving weeks before and moved into his camp; he would stay there the full two weeks even if he got his elk on opening day. When he brought the carcass down he proved to be s good a butcher as any; steaks, roasts, even brisket cut wrapped, labeled and frozen. He wore the same bloodstained leather apron every year and sharpened his knives on an ancient whetstone.