I am a feller that believes in down-to-earth stuff. I know that it pays to watch the signs when weaning and castrating calves, to always watch the persimmon seeds for signs of winter's severity and that a president ain't king! I believe in fixing fences instead of "patching up," providing clean water for cattle and being a church regular. I never have ever, not even once, believed in UFOs or flying saucers of any kind. I believe that aliens exist; my close relative has some in her family. Let us move on!
My Old Dog is one fine member of the canine species, he is true and loyal. I'd put him up against any for being smart and able. He is approaching his senior years and is getting tired quicker than a young pup, but so am I. This is what has me so buffaloed this morning. Old Dog just keeps on barking at the stand of trees down by the pond.
I tried to hush Dog early this morning when he woke me at 5 a.m. He tucked his tail and growled but did get back in his bed. It wasn't five minutes until he started the incessant barking again.
I got up and started the coffee and went out to see what his problem was. He took my presence as a "sic 'em" and all the hair on his back stood up. He took off to the corner of the horse barn, had the dangest barking fit you ever heard and kept on looking back to see if I was coming with him.
The pond is fenced off and a thick mess of briars and saplings has grown up inside the fence. I was satisfied that a feral cat or a possum was in the brush and making noises and that was Dog's cause of alarm.
I called Dog off and went in for breakfast, watched the news and visited with my close relative. The news is so disgusting that it doesn't take long to watch all a feller can tolerate, so I guess I was inside for about an hour. Old Dog was still upset when I went back out the door and got in the truck.
I talked Dog into getting in the cab with me and drove on down to the pond. As soon as we got close to the fence around the thing, Dog stopped barking and began to shake. Now, I can handle a barking dog, a snot-blowing bull or a ground-pawing cow, but I am not too sure I want to face whatever it is that makes a brave dog shake.
Dog was slobbering now, shaking all over, and then he began to whine!
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I am not the smartest man in this world, but I am smart enough to let whatever it was in that pile of brush have the run of the heap!
I don't care if an alien, bobcat, cougar or grizzly bear was in there. It can drink the pond dry and still not make a dent in my business! I believe in self-preservation, backing off, closing one eye or whatever you want to call it; but just let it alone is what I am saying. I just put it in gear and drove on to check the steers.
I didn't mention this to the offspring, and I'd appreciate it if you'd just do the same!
Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.