Best Friends

       Man, why can't everyone just be quiet?  This is an emergency room after all.  The doctor is supposed to be in here soon to let me know how my friend is doing.  When I brought him in, he had lost a lot of blood, and was cut up pretty bad.  It did not look good for him, he was very pale and unresponsive.  I don't think he had any broken bones, though.  When I carried him out of the woods on my shoulders, I did not hear any grind together. He had been lying there for awhile, unconscious, before I found him at the base of the large tree.  It looked as if he had backed up against the tree, and put up a heroic fight, before the overwhelming crowd took him down and left him for dead.
     We are blessed with only a few dear, close friends in our life and he is one.  Whenever I see him he is always overjoyed and glad that I showed up.  When we do things like hunt, fish, or just sit around we very seldom speak.  It's as if we know what the other is thinking.  If we are hunting and I think that he needs to go left to flank the prey, all I have to do is motion with my hand to the left.  He, seeing this, will silently head off in that direction.  If he sees something that I don't, he will point to it, and I will know what he is telling me.  We never judge one another, and treat each other with respect.
     However, a few hours ago, things went terribly wrong.  We came across the hog tracks in the field, and they headed off into the woods.  Even though we were not armed, we decided to just follow them for a little ways.  The woods were thick and dark, the perfect habitat for wild hogs.  All that brush was thick and covered with vines, making it difficult to walk through.  For a long way we were on all fours, crawling through the undergrowth.  This is a dangerous position to be in when hunting hogs, Because of their low center of gravity, and sharp tusks.  They are strong as an ox and smart as a whip.  We came to a clearing where I could stand upright.  I decided to rest here for a while, since all that crawling had my back, knees and hands sore as all get out.  However, his one fault is impatience, so he goes on without me, knowing that I will catch up soon.  In a few moments I  heard him scream and the squeals of the wild boars.  All of a sudden it was quiet.  Eerily quiet.  Hurriedly, I scrambled and pushed my way through the thick undergrowth, scared of what I might find.  Some of the way I still had to crawl, and then there he was.  It was not a pretty sight.  I had to bind his gaping wounds with my belt and shoe laces.  I carried him on my shoulders, where I could, dragged him, where I could not.  It seemed an eternity before I could get him to the truck. I was praying the whole way for the strength to get him to someone that could save his life.
     As I am sitting here waiting for the doctor, I fondly remembered another close friend from my childhood.  Unfortunately, he did not make it.  I was praying that things would work better for this friend.  Just then the doctor walked in with a smile and relief washed over me like a nice warm bath.  "He has lost a lot of blood and is cut up pretty bad, but I stitched and stapled him pretty much all over"  He will need a long recovery period, but should make a full recovery."  Can I see him now?, I asked .  Yes he would like that very much.  When I walked in, he looked very pale and weak , lying on the bed.  With pity in my heart, I leaned over and softly said "Buck".  He opened his eyes, wagged his tail, licked my face, and gave a weak bark.  Thank you, I knew then that he will be ok.

Stoopid Frog

     Late every afternoon, Sheila and I will take our dogs and ride our old syle bikes around the place.  I took the 8-n Ford tractor and box blade and made trails through the woods.  There is a lot of leaves and small sticks that will make it difficult to ride, but when I clean out a trail, it is a pleasure to ride through the woods.  I built a bridge over the ditch and we like to stop there and rest.  From there we go to the bottom pond at the back of the property and then come back over the pipe, behind the barn, around Starkota Pond and then over next to the neighbors.  It takes us about ten minutes to make a lap.  It is good exercise for us and the dogs.
     Before we started riding bikes, the dogs would run circles around us, go out in the woods to chase squirrels and chipmunks.  Now it is all they can do to stay up with us.  By the end of the first lap, they are just barely keeping up.  Two weeks ago, by the time we got back to Starkota Pond, they were tired and anxious to go for a swim. At that moment, Sheila saw a moccasin at the water's edge.  We stopped the dogs and looked around in the pond.  I could see four snakes with their bodies floating just under the water and their heads cocked like revolver hammers, above the surface of the water.  I walked to the house, shut up the dogs, grabbed my rifle and rat shot, and headed back.  I got rid of two, but missed the others.
     Next afternoon, I went out with the gun again and killed one, but the other escaped, heading for the drain pipe.  That pipe is ten feet long, so I grabbed a long slender pecan limb and held it on the ground above the pipe to make sure it would go all the way through.  At the back of the dam, the pipe comes out at about waist high.  I was very careful about where I stepped, looking at the ground with tunnel vision, making sure that when I put my foot down, it was nowhere near a snake.  I leaned over to look into the pipe, inserted the limb, and pushed back and forth, twisting it all around.  After a couple of minutes of this, I stopped and looked into the pipe again.  Not seeing anything, I told Sheila to watch the end of the pipe next to the water.  Reluctantly, she agreed.
    Here I go banging on the pipe again.  the snake, coiled up in the grass, next to the pipe, two feet from my head, said "If this man is going to kill me, I am going to have to go into the pipe."  Lucky for me he went into the pipe.  As soon as he moved, my body was stretched out forty feet, but my feet were still anchored to the ground.  After I left a pile, my feet came back to life, I hauled butt to catch up with my head.  After I gathered my stuff back togather, I started around the edge of  the pond looking for Mr. Snake.  My nerves on edge, I heard a loud plop.  I knew what it was as soon as I heard it, but my reflexes said "snake".  I felt like a fool for my reaction but it was too late. It was a bull frog with a twisted sense of humor, cause I could hear him laughing underwater, at my jumping when he jumped in.  Sheila had planted some azaleas  on the bank under the pecan tree, and we had a 5 gallon bucket there that we used to water them with.  I decided to turn it upside down and  let the jelly drain from my legs as I sat down. to wait for the snake to surface.
     Sitting there for a few minutes, I felt something staring at me.  I turned to the left and looked down. There at the edge of the water, was the biggest snake head I had ever seen.  No wait, that is a bull frog with a head the size of a Pillsbury bisquit, just staring at me.  So thankful that he did not bellow at that moment.  We looked at each other for a few moments, before he disappeared under the water.  I figured it was about time to call it quits for the day.  The moccasin made it through the night, but I got him the next morning.  I still hear the bullfrog croaking every night.