As we get older, it becomes more evident how the stories and adventures shared while we were young are not getting passed on to the younger ones. Or at least, not in many circles is what I observe. I have shared some stories with our grandchildren and they seem to be excited about those childhood escapades. Nana is looked at at a baker, a spoiler, a source of love, but when I told them that Nana grew up mostly outdoors with my Dad and actually went hunting for raccoons, and fished with the best of them baiting my own hook, grubbing for worms, and always taking off the fish I caught from the hook. I could shoot a gun safely and even killed a moccasin in our yard from a distance keeping my daughter safe. Do you share your childhood adventures with your children and/or grandchildren?
I had a conversation with an uncle who I have always been very close to me and he shared a story about a little hen that had so much spirit. I hadn’t heard that story and I felt I was there with him while it happened. I could see that little hen giving life all she had to survive. It was interesting and it was a warm loving moment for me and him to share it. It made me feel that it was a blog message in the making for us to consider writing or recording these priceless stories.
Let me ask you this question, Have your parents/grandparents/aunts and uncles/good family friends shared those old stories and the tingle rose from hearing those adventures?
Now, for the story my Dad shared with me about Hoss? Hoss was the name Daddy chose and once I saw Hoss, I knew that was a perfect name for this dog who was as big as a pony. Back then, we weren’t as concerned about a dog’s pedigree as we had a lot of mixtures or as we called them Heinz 57’s. I think Hoss was a mix of Great Dane. He had eyes that looked into your soul and he summed a person up in a second as to the character in your body. Even still, he was territorial and until my Dad said it was okay, you didn’t come into “Duke’s” yard. Once Daddy said, Okay Duke, you could come in and he was like a puppy to play with and a total lover boy. He obeyed Daddy’s commands and he seemed to understand every word out of his owner’s mouth. He was a one person owner and as I said, until Daddy said it was okay, Duke never moved from his position until it was time for his yard perimeter patrol. Daddy took pride in Hoss and would give me a heads up on Duke’s precise timing. Daddy said, “Watch this baby, Hoss will patrol the yard in a couple of minutes; he does it every hour with in a minute or two of exactly an hour.” Sure enough, in a minute or two, Hoss stood up and began the trek of the yard fence and in a precise directive walk, walked the fence line, sniffing and looking out beyond the yard and slowed down at intervals at the pigeon house. He lifted and lowered his big head and listened for any sounds. He returned to his spot and laid down satisfied that all was secure. He would sleep, get some water, but he waited at that spot. Of course, I couldn’t wait to see how close he would come to the next hour when Hoss stood up at amazingly close timing and repeated this action. Daddy would chuckle showing off Hoss.
I used this photo to give you a glimpse in how large Hoss was but we never got a picture of Hoss but he was larger than this big boy.
Here is the true story of Hoss told by my Daddy on one of my visits and why it is important to pass down these “good as any book” story. I called Daddy to check on him and he said, “Baby, you are not going to believe what Hoss did.” I expected that he had caught some trespassing animal and took care of it, but he apparently caught a real trespasser. Daddy’s land ran close to Georgia Power lines and if the linemen were going to go to work on the lines, it was necessary to park on Daddy’s land as the land sloped and was lower where the actual lines were. The lineman had come out the day before and asked Daddy for permission to park at the front of his yard and he would be working on the lines most of the morning. Of course, Dad had no problem with him parking his truck. The next morning, Daddy was working at the car repair garage and it hit him. Oh no, he hadn’t told Hoss or introduced the lineman to Hoss. Daddy jumped into his truck and drove home immediately, and this was the sight he saw. The man was on the top of his truck with Hoss standing on his hind legs barking every time the man moved an inch. Daddy called out to Hoss, it was okay, good job, and to go to the yard. Hoss obeyed him and dropped to all fours and walked away as it he had completed his mission. The man was ready to leave and he told the rendition of how Hoss immediately put him on the top of his truck and even when he tried to slip into the cabin, Hoss sent him back to the top. He couldn’t even leave. He tried to talk to him but Hoss was not having it. The funniest part of the story was Daddy told him he was sorry that he had not told Hoss the man was coming and it was okay and now that Hoss knew he could come and go as he pleased. Hoss wouldn’t bother him. That theory wasn’t tested as I am sure that lineman found a new place to park just in case Hoss didn’t hear my Dad. I knew that he could have come and Hoss would have been fine. He was that smart but a part of my heart fully understood why he chose not to come back.
Doesn’t your family have great stories and do you share them, record them, and treasure those memories. I have many stories from my childhood and I love to share them. That may be the writer in me, but it doesn’t take a writer to record one of our parents/grandparents/siblings/others recount of times gone by. I suggest it strongly for our heritage to remain in our families. I have listened to my family’s antics and adventures and I hope you have a storehouse of your own.
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