"Nothing but a Darned Old Dog", Daily Racing Form, 1922-03-28


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„. I „ Hut |t, m. m. S, _, 1l the a, !" he - " *e ■ ft 1 I up m . t] ,.j as .,, He || j| a] , j, ..." ■ di n a: a all p : . „ l in „ s f j M on to s n v , „ c , ,, , t j a ] ,, . , I , I . i I I * I a • I i • i . I . J 1 J , 1 . f " : * ♦— "NOTHING BUT A DARNED OLD DOG , The telegram read: "Dog shipped Saturday." So. t bright anil early Sunday morning. I met the train. I no dog. Monday the same. Then 1 wired. Hack came the answer: "Will ship dog Thursday." I Friday and Saturday passed. Another inquiry was I sent from this end There was no answer anil I still no tlog. There Were so many trips made to i telegraph anil express office that as I turned away I heard some one ask: ! "What is that guy expecting, anyway?" and a I voice replied: "Nothing but a darned old teg.** AVell. that was right. Bat Ill tell you what j was once. He wis the cutest, rich golden and snowy white pup you ever saw. anil he was Ixirn under the last house that nestles on the headwaters a of a little creek that raises many miles from what some folks are * phased to call civilization." I He was so trim and neat and looked such a perfect gentleman, in spite of his roly-polyness, that said to the tall mountaineer: "Where the deuce did you get that breed free* here." "A right smart time ago some of my folks drnv cattle to Mt. Sterling, anil when they come back they brought on a couple of them dogs. Yes. sir. right from the Mae Grass. lies about as peart they make cm. aint he?" he asketl proudly. was. and stood out from the rest of his family like a piece of gold. We made a ileal for hiin and the next morning before day the owner appeared at the little cabin where our party had spent the night with the pup in his arms. "Had to tote him eat in the night. Fainilv sort* r sot OB keeping this one. Cot eleven more. Ueckon theyll get over it." he explained simply. Twenty milts over the mountains there was a girl I thought a whole lot of then, and more of now. So. with the pup as company, I struck the down creek trail and handed him over to his mis-iio--.. He was present when we were married. a:id when the preacher said something about with My worldly wealth I thee endow. 1 answered proudly: "Yes. . 1 and one dog." We moved to a little house on the mountain side. nd it was a lonely life at best for a girl. It was off to work before daylight for her man. and back to work many nights, after a hurried supper and the pun. now growing fast, was lots of company. He learned to fetch anil carry. Wo showed him when- the gloves that one had to wear in the mines were pat, after he had brought them proudly the house when he met me as I eani" from work, and on home time evenings hed bring the slipper* from upstairs and lay tiicm down at my feet, and look up at me as much as to say: "Gee. Ill bet pea feel comfortable when you get then on." He learned to carry messages from the house to the mines, and he got to be quite a local I celebrity and very haughty. As the months rolled i there came a time when day by day I weni work more slowly. I.ut at noon hed come streaking over the hill to the pit mouth like a i ray of sunshine, and the note ou his collar would | read : "I feel fine. Dont worry." FILLED THE DOCTORS PRESCRIPTION. And the men would all pet him until the answer was given him. when away hed go back. After r the baby eajaM he was puzzled, because he was neglected, and scmetinies hed sulk. lint as the kidtlie grew they became famous chums, though i he was rather dignified, as became a gentleman i of his undoubted reputation. It was in the after-i.oon of a cold November day that the local doctor said, after an examination of the kiddie: "1 dont really know what is the matter with her. . Ierhaps a little broth would do her good. There p ate a lot of birds over in the valley. Why not kill 1 one tomorrow and try ifr" he asked, turning to me. "I will, if I have to use dynamite." I answered. Soon afterward lie left, and the dog. that iiad been P quietly lying by the fire, followed. Just before bedtime _ came there was a scratching on the door, and I as I opened it in trotted his Royal Iligness with a live Bah White in his mouth. Oh. well: Dont believe if if you dont want t . The neighbors didnl I until they saw the bird, and you didnt have the r privilege. Bat they tlid afterward, and one old lady said: "Why. that dogs got so much sense he i~ almost inhuman." Anil after that we believed he could understand ■ what, you were s.iyitig. and we were careful of his J feelings anil treated him with great respect, and n we shared and shared alike. There was one time p we wanted chicki n and we didnt have much money, • and it certainly looks like every time you havent ■ any money you want chicken. Anyhow, we bought !j chicken, a little one. So little, in fact, that it " got out betareea the slats of the box we put it in. J And the next morning. Sunday, our dinner was gone. We were sitting on a log. the three of us. with j ■ the kiddie in the middle, cussing our luck, xvhen we • beard a squawking, and on running up the hill WC found the dog holding our chicken. I reckon it was " ours, because it had two legs, just as ours did. and " anyhow. I was willing to take his word that it was Ls ours. And ere never stopped going until that f chicken was in the pot. and Ill tell you right now that dog got his share of bird. And Ive oten • wondered if he cou.d have possibly made a mistake. e- for it certainly was one fat fowl. And thats the story of why we love him. Hes ■ getting old and stiff and blind, but hes been faithful i- and loyal ami courageous. In the little house » hes been a guardian and on mountain trails, in the IP dead of night, a guide, anil so 1 ask you to remember i- before you kick one that perhaps he has been. a, like ours, a little childs playmate, a lonely girls a companion and an old-timers chum. And 1 believe t voull agree with me w ln-n I say that there are re worse things in the world than "just a darned old Id dog." — Robert .1. Hreckeiii itige in Lexington Herald. 1.

Persistent Link: https://drf.uky.edu/catalog/1920s/drf1922032801/drf1922032801_7_2
Local Identifier: drf1922032801_7_2
Library of Congress Record: https://lccn.loc.gov/unk82075800