Skip to main content

About Hound Dogs. . . .



Daddy always had a hound dog.

The dog went with him when Daddy left the house with his single-barrel shotgun, a hundred years removed from the high-tech weapons that our deer hunter friends use today, to go squirrel hunting.  A good squirrel dog was as essential to Daddy as Mama's iron skillets were to her.

Daddy's hound dogs were always female, and he named them all Queen.  One could argue that they were Queen I, Queen II, and so forth, but he just called them Queen. I don't know if Daddy loved them more as hunting dogs or as constant companions that didn't talk back.

In the early sixties, Daddy had a beautiful, sleek hound dog that had earned a reputation for being an excellent hunter.  A fellow came to the house one afternoon and offered Daddy a hundred dollars for it.  Remember, this was a time when a hundred dollars could top off your gas tank, fill the bed of the pickup with groceries, and leave enough to make a big dent in the Christmas shopping. Daddy thought about it for a long time, taking his cap off and rubbing his head occasionally, but finally decided that he just loved ole Queenie too much to let her go.  The fellow left, telling Daddy that the offer was good if Daddy ever changed his mind.

Just a few days later, Queen ran out in the road at the precise moment a loaded pulpwood truck was passing.  When the dust settled, Queen was graveyard dead.  Daddy was heartbroken because he had lost his beloved Queenie.  The rest of us were heartbroken because we had lost a hundred dollars worth of goodies.

This is a true story.  I could never make up something so tragical.
. . . . to be continued.

Comments

  1. Wanda, I always enjoy your stories because they're so much like my life. In my early years Daddy had a hunting dog named Pudge. He was also offered $100 for the dog; maybe he did sell the dog later because I don't remember what happened to him.

    Our girls witnessed their dog being hit by the school bus; I went to school and brought them home.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Amish in Stantonville, Tennessee

Last week, my sis and her hub went with us to the Amish community near Stantonville, Tennessee.  It was a beautiful day, and we love driving to new places and finding new treasures.  We enjoy these mini-trips we take together, where we giggle a lot and get caught up on everything.  Also, the squirrels ate all our tomatoes, so we needed to find some to buy. You know the food you are buying is fresh when they bring it from the field while you are standing there waiting for it. Here is part of what we brought home, and it was all delicious. Stantonville is located in McNairy County, Tennessee, northwest of Shiloh National Military Park.

Holy Smoke Pie

I think it was in the late seventies that I first had Holy Smoke Pie.  It was at a party at Debra Morris Harville's house.  After we ate, Debra had to give the recipe to everyone there.  I came home and made it for my family, and it has been a favorite since then.  I always make it at holiday dinners, because I believe tradition is important.  It has become a favorite of our granddaughters. I've heard it called Chocolate Delight, Four-Layer Chocolate Dessert, and other odd things.  We call it Holy Smoke.  Here is how I make it: Chop us a cup of pecans; set aside. Add a stick of softened butter (NOT margarine) to one cup of self-rising flour. Cut the butter into the flour. Add the chopped pecans, and work it all together. Save two tablespoons of the pecans to sprinkle on top. Pour into a 9" x 12" pan that has been sprayed with cooking oil. Spread it over the bottom of the pan.  It helps to use your hands (or hand, if you have t

Cedar Trees in Cemeteries

If you ever wander in old cemeteries, and I know many of you do, you are bound to see some cedar trees. The tradition goes back to the early days of the United States and even earlier  in Europe.  Cedar trees were not always used, but some type of evergreen trees were planted because they were a symbol of everlasting life.  Some  Cherokees believed that cedars contained powerful spirits, including the spirits of the departed buried beneath them. Perhaps because they are known as burial trees, there are many superstitions that surround cedars.  My grandmother told us in no uncertain terms that if we planted a cedar tree, we would die when it was large enough to shade our graves. Some others are: Never transplant a cedar tree; it will bring bad luck. If you transplant a cedar and it dies, you will die shortly. Planting a cedar tree in your yard welcomes poverty. Some say Christ was crucified on a cedar tree, and will bring bad luck if you burn it. If a cedar tree com