“Stay away from negative people. They have a problem for every solution.” ~ Unknown
If you look up the ridge on the right you’ll see my parent’s house. The ravine is steep with a small creek running the center, sided by boulders, tall oaks, and more felled trees than I can count. Dad’s little dog, Crackerjack, likes to go a’wandering after dark. Sometimes he’ll catch a possum, or tree a squirrel, or trail a deer. Sometimes he comes home in time for bed. Sometimes not. Lately, dad has taken to going out after him, insisting that he be in the house by bedtime. Fortunately, I was there last night when the outing turned out differently than expected.
I insisted on going with dad to hunt for the dog. We could hear him behind the house, down in the holler. Nothing would do dad but to go over the hill after him. Three years ago the holler was thick with trees, and clear of underbrush. Now, after less-than-stellar logging, it’s just the opposite: briars so thick it’s like walking through barbed wire. We only took one flashlight, so when dad insisted on going over the hill, he took it and went on. I watched his silhouette dwindle into a single point of bouncing light. He reached the logging road fine, but when he started down the next bank, the land gave way. He tumbled head over heels about fifty feet, missing a huge boulder and several trees, before landing in the creek. I heard wood cracking; watched the flashlight dance through the trees like a mirrorball. After a brief silence I heard, “Oh Lord,” in a disbelieving tone. I thought I was hearing the last words of my 76 year old father. I ran back to the house for another flashlight. I’d made it to the logging road when I saw him crawling – literally crawling – up the bank. He was caked in mud from head to toe with a few cuts on his hand, but he was otherwise fine. Out of breath from climbing, but fine. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t think he could either. It’s funny now, but it wasn’t funny last night. Two things are certain: we’ll talk about this for the rest of his life, and he won’t ever do it again. I believe the idiot dog is on his own from now on. My dad is tough and awesome!
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