While you guys sort out who gets hanged for having an opinion, check out these facts:
The House on Moonlight Road
Though Michael Vick insists he knew nothing of alleged dogfighting on a Virginia property he owned, the case has cast a shadow over the star quarterback, alarmed the NFL and called attention to pro athletes' involvement in the grisly pastime
By George Dohrmann
The brick house Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick owned on Moonlight Road in rural Smithfield, Va., is painted white. It has a white door, a white fence and a huge white gate that opens on a spare front lawn holding a white birdbath. In the woods behind the house, out of view from the road, stand five smaller buildings. These are painted black -- not gray or charcoal, but pure black, as if they'd been dipped in ink. They are set off from the house by a fence, also painted black.
Kathy Strouse, an animal control officer, was standing in front of those outbuildings as night fell on April 25 when a simple question came to her: Why the black paint? A moment passed before Strouse had an answer. At night, when most dogfights are held, no one would know these buildings were here.
It's quite a long read, but worth it, IMO.This article makes it even harder to believe that Vick had no knowledge of what was going on on his property.
Now that details have come out about the investigation, it makes Clinton look even worse for "defending" Vick in the media.
Note: I'm not saying Clinton is guilty, but in hindsight, his comments get dumber, and dumber, and dumber with each passing day.
As many have said over and over again, he shoulda kept his trap shut.

BTW - I also found this poem that paints a a picture of dogfighting, from the dog's perspective. It's truly heart-wrenching:
Crucify Me
Fight me, deny me, and crucify me,
My sins are yours, they're not mine.
You make me what I am, evil at your command.
You send me to meet my challenger, whatever it may be.
I risk my life to line your pockets for nothing but pain and agony.
Three feet of chain with nowhere to go, there's not much here to see.
No time to play, its work, work, work, that's how life is for me.
Run the treadmill. Pull the blocks and hang there from the tree.
If my ribs feel a little thick, then not much food for me.
I'm in tip top shape, a muscle bound freak, with all the attitude I need.
I've got gameness several generations back. You should see my pedigree!
Pump me up! Hype me up! Throw me some bait! How about that young pup?
Watch me rip his eyeballs out; I need the taste of blood.
I've been hit. I've been beat. I've been left to die in the ring.
I've been sewed up! I've been ripped open and I've had several bones
broken!
I've scratched when I couldn't stand and I've stood up when I
couldn't scratch!
I've killed a few dogs and I've nearly died when I've met my
match!
Fight me, deny me, and crucify me,
My sins are yours, they're not mine.
You make me what I am, evil at your command.
You send me to meet my challenger, whatever it may be.
I risk my life to line your pockets for nothing but pain and agony.
You find amusement at my torn, hanging skin
and just when my body heals, you make me do it again.
Why couldn't I have been a happy dog with a master who shared some love?
Not some twisted psychopath, who owes his life to drugs.
I do this evil to earn my keep. Somehow, I must be fed.
The men in suits, they point at me and say they want me dead.
Even the lucky ones in happy homes who have never felt my pain,
must face the executioners because they bear my name.
Fight me, deny me, and crucify me,
My sins are yours, they're not mine.
You make me what I am, evil at your command.
You send me to meet my challenger, whatever it may be.
I risk my life to line your pockets for nothing but pain and agony.
I've grown too old now to fight in your ring
You've left me no chance, to ever be free
I lay in the darkness, no one at my side
my last fight I lost, my eyes no longer can see
this is what you have done, do you not feel shame?
I can no longer walk, run or play
you have a new puppy now, the one to take my place
the cold and darkness closing now, you have nothing to say?
I lay here in pain and my own blood
I still believe that you love me and I try to stay awake
But you kick me and wish me dead then tell them to tie the bag
The darkness is here now; I hope they catch you, for the new puppy's sake
Fight me, deny me, and crucify me,
My sins are yours, they're not mine.
You make me what I am, evil at your command.
You send me to meet my challenger, whatever it may be.
I risk my life to line your pockets for nothing but pain and agony.
Alan W Joslin