Several summers ago I got a call. “Hello,” I said, “Hey…there is a small fawn
inside your fence, and one of the dogs is chasing it,” I had only been awake
for just a few minutes and was making myself a cup of coffee. Going into
survival mode, I grabbed my 38 chief special revolver that is hidden at
the back door for emergencies and slipped on the only shoes that were anywhere
near me. My famous Orange Crocks and I
headed out to the far end of the property where I could hear a dog going
through the woods barking after something, but this time, I knew what it
was.
I held my 38 snub-nose in one hand while my other hand I was holding
up my loose-fitting sleeping pants that were falling around my ankles. Running toward the distance barking, I could see a vicious dog tearing into an innocent fawn or a mother deer
tearing into my dog that was protecting her young, and the latter is the most
probable. The good part, there were only two dogs outside at the time.
The
grass was wet because of the heavy dew on the ground. I was running with the gun in one hand, my other hand holding my pants with my feet shuffling and scooting to keep my shoes
on because my feet were wet. Note to readers; running with Orange Crocks that are wet
inside, slick on the bottom, wet grass with no arms that can balance you, can be
dangerous.
Once
I reached the lake and knowing it would be shorter to go down the hill of the
dam rather than around, I headed down. About 20 feet into my decline, I knew I
was in trouble as I hadn’t slowed down at all, in fact, I was speeding up and
unable to stop. My little feet were high stepping as fast as I could manage,
especially with one arm in the air with 38 and one hand holding up my pants…
Note to readers; do not run fast down a hill on wet grass with Orange Crocks
with no hands for balance; it can be really dangerous.
By
the grace of whatever or dog gods, I made it down the 50-foot embankment
without falling down. I still had to run up another hill and nearly five
hundred feet to get close to the dog and fawn. The barking was continuing, and
my mind was running wild as to who was in trouble and didn’t realize it was
probably me.
I
saw the spotted fawn and the dog. It appeared that there was no problem, but
the dog was curious, and no mamma deer was anywhere to be seen… Whew… The dog
turned toward the house and started running, which I assumed he wanted to get
breakfast. The fawn was scared and nearly came up to me looking for help, we
were close to one of the twelve-foot gates on the farm that exited out of the
property. Case closed… open the gate and walk back to the kennel putting the
dog up, and the fawn would surely walk back to mamma deer when it has a chance.
I
looked down at the ground at my wet Orange Crocks… then toward the heavens and
said, “SHI……. Sugar,” … and off I went back toward the open gate and I just
knew that I would never find a running dog in the four thousand undeveloped
acres of the Hoosier Nation Forrest. I took about ten steps, kicked off my Orange Crocks, threw the gun on the ground, and started running like a madman
except I was still holding up my pants up. I again ran down the hill, up the
hill, and over the levy toward the gate. Again, by the fate of the dog gods,
the dog turned away from the open gate for some reason and sprinted off in
another direction. The gate is over a small knoll, and I could not see it, but
I’m sure the dog didn’t either. I kicked in everything I had, running the last
50 yards like a high school kid, topped the hill, and slammed the 5” high gate
shut, hoping the dog was still inside.
I
walked back to the house, not seeing the dog but hoping he was inside the gate.
I had to take a few breaks just to catch my breath and pull up my pants, and
when I got near the house, sitting on the back porch wagging his tail was a
very happy, well-exercised dog…
Moral
of this story;
Don’t
run in wet Crocks down a hill with no hands...
Don’t
leave a gate open when you want to keep something inside...
Don’t
expect a curious dog to mind...
And
why would I take my S & W 38 Chief Special revolver with me? I’ve tried to
answer that myself. I might as well have taken a picnic basket, a book or a
crossword puzzle… Maybe I should have had that first cup of coffee… and pants
that would stay up…
