My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 206 - The Pet Heroes

Episode Date: December 21, 2020

This week’s minisode is a compilation of hometowns that feature pet hero stories.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe and downright obsess over true crime and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery, Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music. Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. Hello. Welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-soat. That's Karen. That's Georgia. And we're going to read your stuff to you. It's 7 a.m. on Sunday morning. Okay, are you ready? I'm so ready. My Cocker Spaniel saved me from getting kidnapped. Yay. Hello, MFM family. Nice. This is a saint. Great. Love your podcast. We'll get right to the point because I'm a professor and school's about to start in life as chaos. I love this person. Hell yeah. Okay, when I was a kid, I had a Cocker

Spaniel Sassy. Sassy. Oh, that was such a kid's dog's name. Let's see. Sassy. Did you used to get in Sassy Magazine? Yeah. Yeah. All right. Yeah. Wait, yeah. I think I knew of it, didn't get it. Sassy Magazine was, they had like, they used to have Teen Vogue or some teen version of a fashion magazine and then they got rid of it and they put out Sassy and it was like the 90s-est. Amazing. Like most real Gen X. Curtin Courtney were on the cover of it. Yes. Like it was so badass. It was really, look up old, old, I was gonna say episodes of it because it's really good. Anyhow, Sassy who was scared of a lot of things. She would pee on herself when people came to the door. I do that too. Can you imagine? Or if anyone tried to pet her when we were out on a walk.

Oh. Maybe she just had to pee all the time. Generally, she found people that weren't my family terrifying. I've always been interested in animals, turned that passion into a career. I'm a psychologist who studies how animals think and reason and now I have the best job ever. Yes, you do. Holy shit. Come over and talk to Elvis, my god. I mean me. Is this a person that's like watching videos of apes using tools and shit? No, they don't want to talk to my cats, do you mean? Oh, I mean, no, no, not comparatively. No, that's just the first thing I think. Did you see that the video, it was a viral video of a, it was some kind of an ape or chimpanzee that was using a stick and fire to roast marshmallows? No. It's the greatest. I thought you were gonna say the

gorilla who's in the kiddie pool and turning around and dancing and going crazy. Did you see, it really shows how they think. They really think I gotta dance. Yeah. Okay. Okay. I play games with dogs for science. Oh, I didn't, I should have finished that. So I would take our dogs. We had another one who isn't in this story, but she was awesome too. To the field at the school about a block from our house to work on their obedience training. One day I was there with sassy and this guy approached me and tried to talk to me. He didn't get very close because as soon as he came near me, nervous little sassy went nuts. She started barking and growling and lunging at this guy. This was a dog who usually peed herself and hid behind me when she saw a stranger and here she

was going on the attack. The guy walked away and I felt kind of bad that she had acted that way. Innocent little me thought that he was maybe trying to ask for directions or something. Yeah, yeah, adults don't ask kids for help. That was in parentheses. The next day I was at the grocery store with my dad and saw sketches of the same guy posted on the community announcements board at the front of the store. Apparently he had been trying to lure kids away from schools in the area and police were trying to find him. I told my dad and a few days later they reported on the evening news that he had been arrested. From then on I've always trusted my dog's instincts more than my own. I think everyone is great until proven otherwise. And it has served me well on more

than one occasion. On a happy note, my fiancee say and I met through our dogs. We were both looking to rent houses that were big dog friendly and kept running into each other at the same rental houses. That's the most precious meat cute I've ever heard. Hi. Oh my god, it's you again. What did you think of the last one? Kind of gross, right? I mean it did smell. It's not terrible. It was crazy. Do you like wallpaper? I love wallpaper. Oh my god, I love wallpaper of dogs. Um, sorry. And our dogs are going to be the maid of honor and best man in our wedding next to the park. Oh my god. And these are the best human beings that I've ever existed. In parentheses she wrote, yep, we're those people. Stay sexy, don't get murdered and always trust your dog,

Ellen. I love it. Oh my god. I always thought that Elvis couldn't and Mimi couldn't be in the wedding. Can you imagine? I just let them listen to the room. They're just wandering around licking stuff. They're serving hors d'oeuvres. No, I wanted them to work in the wedding because it was cater waiter expensive. Yeah, just right. But if they were the bartenders. Oh my god, just like little gin and tonics on their backs. Well, kiddies. Okay, that was amazing. That was those are very sweet people. I love it. What was her name? I'm sorry. Ellen. Thank you, Ellen. All right. Thank you. Okay. This one's by Aubrey. It's called the subject was my dog helped catch a murderer. Yes. Okay, my hometown murderer. I always skip

the nice stuff. What does that say about me that I don't that you well, we don't want us come off as like congratulatory, but it's so nice. But it is really nice. And it's what they wrote. It is what they wrote. And it's nice. And I don't want people to think I don't want them. I don't want people to think that they didn't they just started with their anyways. Right. My hometown murder happened in 1999 when I was eight years old in Racine, Wisconsin, which is about halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago on Lake Michigan. She can't remember any of the names and she apologizes, but I swear this happened. My sister and I were playing in our backyard in June of 99. We lived in town. We lived in town. So our yard in our neighbor's yard were only separated by a

four foot chain link fence. Suddenly a man wearing only boxer shorts and carrying a knife ran into my neighbor's yard from the alley, followed by two police officers. The officers yelled at my sister and me to get in the house and lock the doors. My two sisters, my two sisters ran. But of course, I froze in fear and she says, or now knowing my interest in murder, maybe I froze with intrigue. Yeah, I'm going with that. During the commotion, the man in the boxers attempted to jump over the chain link fence into our yard. However, our usually docile, harmless black lab max attacked the man's foot and he decided to jump over the fence to the front yard instead. I don't, I don't want to. I don't want to know what would have happened if that man made it into my yard where

I stood paralyzed. The police managed to detain him in the street in front of our house after their ordeal. They came back to our front door and explain the situation. It turns out this guy had raped and murdered his ex-girlfriend and her 15 year old daughter. They were found stabbed to death in their apartment. When the police arrived at his house to arrest him, he wasn't there and couldn't be found for months. When they found him, he was camped out in the woods near my house, woods that my 12 year old sister walked past alone every day to get to and from school. No. When they found woods. Yeah, the woods, man. The woods. Chopped down all the woods. Am I wrong? Yes. Okay, good, good to know. When they found him, he was the solution though. You're just

trying to solve the problem. I mean, yeah. When they found him, he ran and thus entered, ended up in my neighbor's yard. And just to make the story even better, when Max attacked this guy's leg, he bit him so hard that he broke his ankle. Good boy. Yes. And the guy couldn't run anymore. The police wanted to meet our dog to formally thank him for his service. Max got a honorary police dog award, which I'm sure they just made up on the spot, but it was still sweet. Are you going to cry? Maybe. I need to eat some protein. I'm obviously having big feelings about every everything I'm hearing today. Chills and tears and tears and yeah. And then I'm sweating. Yeah, it's all of the all the temperatures. That's unbelievable. Good boy, Max. She laid eyes on that

murder. Yeah, I wonder if she hadn't been if she had run in with her scaredy cat sisters, she wouldn't have seen it for her own two eyes. Girl, what I mean is why you always stay and watch. Always, always. Be a Gawker. That's a good one. This one is for it's from Atlanta. It's a story from Atlanta. Hey, Georgia, Karen, Steven and Fur Babies. God damn you. I wanted to share with you the night our Puppa man, strike two, our Puppa Charlie saved us from being murdered while I panicked and apparently changed outfits three times before the police even got there. Okay, so my husband Brian and I had gone to see paranormal activity too. And we headed back to our tiny bungalow overlooking the cute shops, police station and restaurants in historic Norcross, Georgia.

Sounds adorable. It's a little suburb right out of Atlanta's perimeter. We went to bed fairly early because Brian had to fly out early the next morning for work, but we were awoken in terror by our Springer Spaniel going absolutely crazy at about 3am. That's just the middle of the night. Paranormal activity. Not what you want. Not cool. Springer, Spaniel. It's never darker than at 3am. I knew the second that I heard his bark that something was really wrong. It was like no bark I'd ever heard from him or any other dog. Good boy. We both immediately jumped up and started running toward the barking. Our tiny bungalow had a waist high white picket fence all the way around it with a big wrap around southern style front porch. The side door was glass and had the wavy old

window panes and Charlie starts going nuts attacking the window. When we look up there's a man standing there staring at us with his arms casually by his side rocking back and forth with the most terrifying smile on his face. No. No. I'm already scared because you know I don't like sliding glass doors because like on the ground floor because you can't all you can see is your reflection when the lights are on. That's right. That's not okay. You have that don't you? I have that and that was just in a movie where we were talking about oh my god that's so perfect and scary. And then you turn the light off and it's it's someone inside at night with all the with all windows going I feel someone is outside but I now I know they can see me and I can't see them.

I'm just gonna live in a box. That's all that's happening. Okay. So Brian who was buck ass naked screamed at me to get our gun. Holy shit. I was always scared of having guns in the house so we had a shotgun with no bullets. Oh my god. So I got the empty gun from the closet and Brian still naked cracked it and held held it through the window while I phoned someone's Canadian. I phoned 911. As I'm waiting on the operator my husband tells me that I have to go back and check the porch. He was convinced this guy was the distraction and that more were coming in the back. Oh my god. No. Oh and that says what the fuck. The WTF. Yes. Okay. By this point I'm totally out of my mind with panic. The dog is still going berserk. My husband is naked and holding the empty

gun seemed to be some sort of drugged out zombie but luckily I didn't see anyone in back. By this point the guy now has crossed his arms and is leaning his face against the window staring at Brian through the glass. He's that close. Just smiling giggling and whispering things under his breath. No, no, no, no, no. He didn't break eye contact with Brian which somehow made it even more terrifying. Dude. Our home was just a few blocks from the police station. You could literally stand on the front porch and see the station. So once I was on the phone with the 911 operator she was like describe him. So I did and she says oh goodness we know who that is. Whatever you do don't chase him if he runs. So it says uh what the fuck. I'm sorry. Apparently they had picked

the guy up earlier in the night and he had just strolled off from the station and ended up at our house. While I was on the phone with 911 my husband said he kept seeing me run back and forth in and out of our bedroom. Each time I ran by I was in a different change of clothes. He said I changed at least three times. I have no memory of it whatsoever. Wow. By the time the police showed up I had on a summer dress my hair was pulled up and I had on lipstick. Brian was still naked with an unloaded gun. The police dragged the zombie criminal off the front porch and arrested him in the front yard. They couldn't stop talking about how creepy the guy was which must be super creepy considering what cops see every day. Oh that's so awful. Oh my god. After

Brian finally got um put on some shorts he asked one policeman what suggestions he had for better home safety. He said first get a dog and then get a security system and then get a gun she knows how to use as he pointed at me. He looked me dead in the eye and said honey we generally show up to clean up the mess. If he'd gotten in he could have killed you and gone in the time it takes us to get here. It was our sweet baby hero Charlie who alerted us to something being wrong and was brave enough to not let up until the police got the bad guy. Good boy. He kept his mom a sexy and he didn't let me get murdered good boy. I love your show. Can't wait to see you live in Atlanta in January. SSTGM Katie. I'm gonna cry. Charlie what a good boy. Charlie's a good boy.

You gotta have a dog. You got to. I'm a cat person through and through you know that but they're the best. There's no there's no substitution for a fucking dog. The loyalty and the fucking fervor. And the the when they were describing of the different sounding barking. There is a barking George does at the front when there's somebody on the front porch that we don't know. And it sounds completely different than her normal barking. Well I know when they meow and they want food. And when they meow and they just want to talk when they meow and they're you know this or that but it's not the same thing. These cats will stare at you as someone breaks into the house. They will watch it as like they're fascinated. Absolutely like leave the door open

because I want to get the fuck out of here. Oh my god that made me want to cry. I didn't realize how close he was. His face to the door laughing. And whispering to himself. The whispering. That's just someone who's completely gone. Their mind is gone. Yeah. For whatever reason. I'm also impressed with her husband who like took care of shit even though his dick was out. Yeah. You know. Maybe because of it. Yeah. Maybe he was starting to feel himself. Yeah. Not literally. Never mind. I meant in that kind of a man of the earth way. Right. Yeah. Like how funny would it be though? Then he gets arrested. They're like sir. You like this crime too much. Yeah. You're really into this. Okay. This is called Siamese cats and an attempted break-in. Hey gang. My mom and dad were living

in Calgary, Alberta, Canada in their late 20s. My dad had finished med school and was doing his residency at the local hospital which meant that he often worked late into the night. On this particular day my mom came home after work to the house they rented, made dinner and then went upstairs to watch TV. Later in the evening she heard something down stairs at the door and idly thought that it must be my dad coming home from the hospital earlier than expected. When the sound of the door handle shaking continued on just a little too long, my mom looked out of her room at the top of the stairs where her two Siamese cats, Alex and Cleo were sitting together and staring down the stairs at the door. Their ears were

pressed way back against their heads and the most scornful feline frown. My mom likes to say that this was the point where she knew something was wrong. If cats saw my dad they would greet him happily at the door meowing for cuddles but they were very protective of my mom when it came to strangers. That's my thing too. If you're scared alone look at the cats. Are they freaking out? Yeah. No then everything's fine. Yeah. They have the sense of things going on that it's just like my dogs can hear things happening down the street. Exactly. Yeah. And so you just get alerted to things and right you know scared. Well suddenly my mom heard a thud. A picture frame she had leaning on the inside of the window frame clattered into the front porch. She knew someone

must have just opened the window and she jumped to her phone to call 911. When the police arrived she met them at the door and even though they searched the whole house they didn't find anything or anyone amiss other than the open window. As the police were walking away from the house my mom went to the porch to pick up the fallen frame. Well she bent down to pick up the frame. What did she see? But a pair of feet sticking out from underneath the barbecue cover. Not one. Can you imagine? Someone's in balled up in the barbecue. And she bends over and sees their feet. Now I've known my mom to issue a good scream at the sight of a spider but I can't even imagine

doing the ungodly sound that she let loose when she saw those feet. The police came running back to the house and they, ashamed, took away the hiding man who almost went undetected. Unfortunately for my mom when she called my dad after the whole ordeal he couldn't leave his shift at the hospital to be with her. Oh no. But at least she had her loyal cats to keep her safe. Stay sexy and trust your cats. See. Oh my god. The feet. The image of just I'm gonna clean up now. Feet. I guess I was over yeah. But also what size was that barbecue? Because I'm thinking the one my dad had which was like the one that was kind of orange and it just has a circular lid. There's no way it was that. I think this must have been like a big one

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Diva, Whitney Houston. Whitney's voice defined a generation and even after her death, her talent remains unmatched. But her incredible success hit a deeply private pain. In our series, Whitney Houston, Destiny of a Diva, we'll tell you how she hid her true self to make everyone around her happy and how the pressure to be all things to all people led her down a dark path. Follow Even the Rich wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Okay, here's my last one. Okay. Hey, ladies, I love the podcast, even if it sometimes freaks my roommate out. Yeah, that's right. Stand by us. This story is about my parent's spooky house and they're very good dog, all caps. Good dogs. Georgie and Frankie.

Look at how quiet. Sleep then. They know what they have to do to stay in the room. Yeah, that's right. It's just like me when I used to ask to be in my cousin Cheryl's room, you just have to zip the lip and you can stay in there for as long as you want. Simple, really. Okay, my parents' house was built in 1915 and they bought it just before I was born in the 80s. It's a pretty normal house, two stories, three bedrooms, a big yard and an unfinished basement. We've never finished the basement as it's prone to flooding and we've always just used it as a general sort of laundry workshop, et cetera space. It's just a little bit creepy the way that all unfinished basements are, but never freaked me out too much as a kid. When you grow up in an

old house, creepy basements and spooky noises at night like noisy radiators are just part of life. Anyway, around 2008, my parents adopted a new dog, a black lab mix named Clark. Mr. Clark. I don't know why I missed that name when I was reading this. That's the funniest. Our childhood dog had passed away. My sister and I were long grown and gone, and my parents wanted a furry friend around the house. Clark was six months old and incredibly sweet. He'd been rescued from a bad situation and for years, he hated to be alone and always wanted to be in the same room as someone. That's so frank. He was pretty well trained by a foster family, housebroken and almost never barked. He was and still is to this day. He's doing great

for his age, pretty much the perfect dog. A day or two after he came home with my parents, my dad was at work and my mom went downstairs to do laundry. The basement is accessed through a door with a little closet area on one side in the kitchen, and it has creaky wooden steps going down to it. Clark predictably followed my mom down these stairs into the basement and immediately freaked out. It was the first time he'd been in the basement and something terrified him. He looked around and sniffed the air a little bit, then let out one sharp bark the first time my mom ever heard him bark. He backed up, his hackles were raised, tail between his legs. He was so scared he peed on the floor a little bit and then he raced back upstairs to the kitchen.

My mom was at a loss for what had scared him so much, but obviously something did. She went upstairs and comforted him, but he refused to go back down in the basement. He refused to even stepped through the door leading to the stairs to the basement. There's a door to the driveway halfway down the basement stairs, and that's the only door where you don't get a face full of flying lab if you enter. We've tried everything. Favorite dog treats, people, food, toys, but nothing in 12 years has convinced this incredibly social dog to even pass through that doorway. Once when I was visiting, something happened to cause a small hole in the kitchen floor and Clark wouldn't go near it until it was covered up. None of us have ever

experienced anything too creepy in the basement, but obviously something terrifying is down there and Clark's the only one with the good sense to avoid it. Stay sexy and don't get murdered in a creepy basement and then scare a sweet dog. Oh my God. What's down there? They don't know. Dig it up. Dig it up. I mean, something's down there. That dog knows what he's talking about. Or it's like, I think it like, it just, for me, it like makes me believe in like bad vibes more, you know? Sure. But if it's unfinished, there could be like one corner of the basement where there's just a body. It's just like, like, you know, in a cartoon when you scan down an underground and you see the skeletons and stuff, there could just be a skeleton just

right on the other side of one of their unfinished dirt walls. Or he's just a design snob and is like, finish this fucking basement already. It's garbage. I don't want to look at it. I will pee on it. It's not fair. It's disdain. It's dog disdain. The one thing he stuck up about is unfinished flooring. Finish it. I'm Clark. Finish it. Okay. This is, here's a hero pet story. Perfect. That we've always wanted. Hello, Steven. Sladies and pets. What's that mean? Like slay ladies, I think. I'm old. Sladies. Here's my hero cat adventure. I'm highly allergic to cats, but I was at the Humane Society with a friend. Away from the other cat's cages was a gray cat with mange and she looked rough. My abused animal flags were raised and I approached

the cage. Her name was Smokey. She was, and this is like a title, not good with kids. Not good with dogs. Not good with other cats. And she was not good with the staff. Oh, she put a paw out of the cage when I approached and I thought your cat chooses you was a cliche, but that night I went home with a blanket from her cage to test my allergies. Like I just make sure her putting her face in this. It's kind of, I love cats, but okay. Smokey was a fitting name because she looked like a cranky chain smoking butch of an old woman, but a new life, a new name. I changed her name to Slate. She wasn't cranky. She had resting cat bitch face. Sure. She was a badass. She had been at the shelter for eight months. As I signed the paperwork to adopt her, I was asked multiple times,

are you sure? Slate hissed and swiped as they tried to put a collar on her. I picked her up off the ground and she stopped fighting. She only swiped once and that's the day she saved my life. What? It was a few months after I adopted Slate. I thought it was just going to be an animal adoption story. I forgot about the hero part. Like this is really nice. Just lovely. Oh wait, what's this podcast? This isn't a podcast. No. Okay. It was a few months after I adopted Slate. I worked third shift, but this night I had, I was home with a cold. I was passed the fuck out in a deep, deep medicated coma when the fire downstairs broke out. I was so hard passed out that I didn't hear the alarms go off. My friends were evacuating the older folks, but they had no idea I was home

because she was supposed to be at work. Oh right. They had no way of knowing I was asleep in the apartment as it slowly filled with smoke. This was the one only time Slate attacked and it woke me right up. I got right the fuck out of there holding the cat under my arm. Something that was good was the big quote, weird guy that every apartment has broke his arm knocking down the door to the apartment with the fire raging inside to save the pet that caused the fire. This lumbering giant ran down the stairs, saw the fire, broke down the door, went into the apartment and saved the kitten. Oh, let's not call him lumbering. I mean, that's rude. What if he's incredibly graceful? You weren't fucking there in the hallway. She's seen him lumber around the apartment building

for years probably. But this is when his body took flight. Right. And he was suddenly the lead to ballerina. It was most graceful. So don't discount the quiet. So don't discount the big quiet guy that needs to do his laundry and don't. Oh, I don't. And don't count out the old cat. Slate lived for another eight years and when she passed away, a friend forged a special earn for her. She went from the cat that no one wanted to the beloved sidekick, SSDGM, Paige in New England. Paige, she didn't just go to the sidekick. She went to a true hero. A hero. She woke you up. So you know what? You need it. Slate! Go get a cat at the Humane Society, everyone. Also, that's kind of amazing that that cat hated everyone that worked there,

but reached out and touched her. Of like, listen, can you please get me out of here? This fucking sucks. These people are insane. They love cats so much. We'll be your best friend. All the other cats here are fucking dicks. If I get out, I'll get a job and I'll pay you back. I swear to God. Get me the fuck out of here, please. Eight months. That's a long time. Also, get this blanket out of here. Yeah. It's disgusting. Put your face in it. I promise you'll love me. Do you know that when we adopted my old cat, Rory, who died tragically, but comedically, she, it was the exact same thing. She was an old gray kind of tabby. She was way in the back of her horrible cage. She was just like, forget it. Just keep going. And when they give you the room,

they put you in a room to test it out, the way she behaved was if we were trying to strangle her the whole time. She was like scratching at like the walls and shit, and she peed all over both of us. Like, she lost her shit. Yeah. And then we, me and Pete, were both just like, we gotta get her. You're fucking sadist. Yes. We were just like, no one's going to take this cat. She's going to die in a shelter. And she was also really old. So we just were like, come on you. Come join us. It literally took, because I already had Angus, my big, huge, insane cat. And it took her like two weeks. She would, she was just hiding under the desk. And then finally one day she snuck into the teasing room. Like, all right, I guess. Yeah.

Oh, and she didn't, I don't know. Did she like sit on you? Or was she like snuggly from then on? Yes. Well, she would come up, she would like, everything was a test. So you, if she came around, you'd have to freeze and just pretend like you were watching TV. And then she would put herself where she needed to be. And then you could pet her and stuff. Yeah. My cat Whiskers, who we found as a kitten on the street, Gray and White lived to be 20 years old. And she was like, the fucking best. Yeah. Cats are the best. This has been the percast. Stephen's been kicked off the percast. And it's now on this feed. Right. And we don't interview anyone. His whole concept. Well, fuck you guys. Thanks for sending your stories. Send us more hero cat and dog and animal

par, parrot stories. Anything. We just, anything from your life. We like it all. Biochemistry. Yeah. Thanks for writing. Let's hear from those biochemists. That's right. My favorite murder at Gmail. Oh, first responders. First responders. Apparently you haven't been represented enough. Apparently you hate us. Apparently you're keeping all your good stories to yourself. All right. We'll stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye.