Ray Cross
As the deputy and lieutenant pulled him away, Bobby Joe Belue wondered how he got to this point.
"They kill my dog, come up here and put me in jail," he said. "I couldn't believe [Dade County Sheriff] Ray Cross done me that way."
The dispute began between neighbors -- specifically, about animals. Belue, 70, said he got along with the Floyd family when they moved onto Trenton's District Line Road 12 years ago. They were on property the Belues once owned, and Bobby wanted to be friendly.
But one day, he said, the Floyds' pig escaped and lumbered through his garden, stomping his tomatoes, peppers, squash and okra. He called the Floyds and told them to get their pig, and they did. And that was that, though Belue held a bit of a grudge.
When exactly that happened is up for debate. Belue says it was only about a year ago. Dylan Ray Floyd, 21, who is a Dade County detention officer, says it happened 10 years ago.
Either way, the families didn't experience any further problems until recently. On Nov. 7, Dylan Floyd went outside around 10:30 a.m. to check on the cattle trailer his family just bought. He heard dogs barking.
On the other side of the house, he said, he found three dogs: two strays and Champ, Belue's brown-and-white pit bull. Floyd said all three gnawed on the leg of a newborn calf, no more than five hours old.
He retreated to the house, grabbed a .22 rifle and opened fire on all three, killing them. (Belue's wife said he only shot Champ and let the others run free, something Floyd denies.) He didn't try to alert Belue. He didn't fire a warning. He saw no use for either action.
"The dogs will come back and do it again," he said. "I can't sit inside and sleep at night knowing three dogs have already been on it, knowing there was a chance they would come back and do it again. That's a $1,000 calf right there."
Belue's sister, Betty Gass, who is also the Floyds' neighbor, said she heard the gunshots and later found Champ under her shed about 300 feet from the Floyds' property, bleeding out of his mouth. Champ died soon afterward.
Belue said he came over when he found out and counted the bullets in his dog. There were eight in all, in Champ's back, in his ribs, in his head.
Belue bought the dog as a pup two years ago. He said he needed a dog for companionship. On slow afternoons in rural Dade County, they played fetch with a tennis ball and tug-of-war with a rope. He was a good dog.
"It sit when I told him to," Belue said. "It shook hands when I told him to. He come to me when I told him to. He was right at a wonderful, beautiful dog."
After Champ died, Belue visited Cross and told him what Floyd did.
"It's not a crime," Cross said of the shooting. "It's a civil matter."
Belue thinks Cross was uninterested in Champ's death because Floyd works for the sheriff's office. But Cross said the incident simply wasn't a matter for law enforcement.
That is, until the next day. On Nov. 8, Floyd said, his 12-year-old brother was walking his own dog when he heard a gunshot. Then he said he heard someone say, "Bobby, why did you do that?"
Floyd said Belue shot at his little brother out of revenge. Belue said that's not true. He said he was firing his rifle on his own property into a stack of wood, something he often does to stay sharp.
Either way, Floyd called the sheriff's office, and a deputy and a lieutenant responded. When they asked Belue what happened, Belue began to yell. Floyd killed his dog, he told them. Floyd's the one who should be in trouble.
Lt. Danny Ellis said Belue continued to yell at them. Then they arrested him -- not for the alleged shots at Floyd's little brother, but for the yelling and fussing.
They charged him with disorderly conduct and obstruction of a law enforcement officer.
Belue, who left town to visit his wife's sister in Tifton, Ga., after getting out of jail, said that is all a lie. He didn't resist arrest. He didn't obstruct them. And he certainly didn't try to shoot anybody, he said.
"No, no," he said. "I'm just hurt real bad that he didn't tell me [when Champ died]. A dog's life ain't worth a human's life, son. I know that. I didn't shoot at nobody. Never have. Never will. The good Lord will handle this. There's judgment day for everybody. They can lie -- let Him handle this."
Contact staff writer Tyler Jett at tjett@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6476.