When I got up the next morning,
Dan had already been up for a long time, and drained the coffee pot
totally dry, maybe for the second or third time, because you can
never tell about Big Dan. He was now long gone, off to see his girl
friends and boy friends. Harold was up too, waiting at his spot at
the table while Lou cooked breakfast. He said, “Just go look for
yourself, and see if you can pick a track out of that mess”. Well,
that told me we must not have been successful, but I rushed out there
anyway. The bait was gone, the trap was thrown, and the trap was
pulled to the end of the wire. There was a lot of claw and scratch
marks where this animal pulled the trap around, but the flour was
pretty much a mess, and using all my skills built up from my woodsman
experiences, about all I could read from that was, he sure had some
sharp claws.
Well, I sure did want to hang
around until the end game of this mystery played out, but Barbara was
expecting me home sometime today, and looks like I will miss it. My
last bit of advice to Harold was to remove all the cat food, sprinkle
moth balls around in the room and under the house, leave the outside
entrance open tonight to give it room to get out, then close it back
up tomorrow. Most pests I had experienced have no tolerance for moth
balls. But I knew in my heart that Harold would not go with it,
because by now, he just really had to get a look at this smart
animal.
I wanted to grab that last piece
of lemon pie, but there was just a tiny sliver left. Mom always
frowned at us when we grabbed the very last bit. I always let Lou
know when I'm coming, and I usually arrive at about meal time, and
she has my favorite, coconut pie, waiting. This time she surprised
me, and It was lemon. I now think my favorite kind of pie is lemon
pie.
As I walked out the door, I could tell
Harold was starting to plot his next move in his mind. I would like
to tell you more, but another night has now passed, and I'm just
dying to go call Harold. I can't wait to hear what happened last
night.
Well, it's now a few hours later,
and I have talked to Harold. He's had a change of heart. He feels sad
and respectful toward this very worthy opponent, and he has decided
to take all the cat food out of that room, open the outside opening
to the underside of the house, and hopes, maybe when it has eaten up
all the cat food it has stashed away, that it will move out and seek
another life. Probably with a sore nose or head from that rat trap. Anyway, somewhere
away from his house, and he wishes it well. We all would have liked
to have gotten a look at this brilliant creature, though. Several
have mentioned getting a motion activated camera to help get a look
at him, and everyone agreed it was a good idea, but no one stepped
forward and offered to foot the bill. Goodbye, Einstein of the wild
animal kingdom! We all wish you well. Sore nose and all. (LATE NEWS FLASH! It seems the smart animal did not take leave of the house after all, Harold got his second wind, and somehow worked out an intricate method of capturing one of the animals, a pack rat. His method still is a little fuzzy in my mind, but involved lady's nylons and peanut butter added to Harold's vast assortment of weapons already brought to bear. Yet, the cat food loss seems to still be moving forward.. As Ken Gillum e-mailed me, the strange saga continues.......Ken is actually Harold's youngest son, Big Dan the middle one. Sorry, Ken! Now, why didn't I think of lady's nylons? It seems so simple, now.)
Harold and Big Dan were both
blessed with great strength. Those strength genes just passed my side
of the family by, But I did have one strength when I was young. I
could run a long way.
But fortunately, I never really
needed strength to get by in this world. Even as a young man, just
out of high school,. I had and still have a well thought out self
defense plan, consisting of these 6 steps. 1. Never become a
regular at Honkey tonks, where most of the problems arise. My Dad
never let me get accustomed to such as that when I lived in his
house, and I just never got the urge to change that. 2. Be
humble, which I have always been. 3. My fake big man status.
I say fake because I weighed 160 pounds, 6'2” right out of high
school. No fat. That's the size I still am underneath the fat, though
I eventually got up to 260 pounds fat and all, now trimmed down to
220 pounds. So I'm a fake big man, because the fat really does not
figure in on the positive side where self defense is concerned. Just
slows you down, and makes you hit the ground harder if you do go
down. But fortunately, this is the first time I ever confessed all
this, and most possible trouble makers don't really know I'm not an
honest to goodness big man. 4. Bluff. That goes back to step
#3. 5. Don't be too proud to run – far. Which I was able to
do as a young man. And fear will help out with the lack of speed
problem. Though this one may be a little outdated, and I may have to
rework that a bit.. 6. Don't be too proud to lie flat on the ground
if none of those other steps work, and beg for mercy. I have no
pride. Actually, bragging about a lack of pride is a form of pride in
itself. But I always take great pride in my lack of pride.
So far, thank goodness, I've never had
to go past step 3. But it could happen, and when it does, I'll be
ready. Remember this general rule to live your life by:
A man who can run fast and far,
and is not too proud to do it, does not need to be a fighter. But always remember to rework some of that, when you get to be 68 years old, and can't run a lick.
Thanks for your time, and your attention. (See? I told you I was humble.) Continued
No comments:
Post a Comment