I wish I still lived in the country and had the 49 John Deere Tractor. But this is not what I am writing about. I am taking another break from commenting on politics, and the vast amounts of dumbasses that are our elected officials. I can only piss on the same post for a finite amount of time till it puddles up, and needs time to dry. I did this awhile back, when I went on my Foodie and Prepper’s binge. I made a lot of new blog friends during that stretch of time. So I think this next hiatus from politics will be centered around animals and humor….and beer of course!
Animals is an easy topic for me. I grew up as a Hillbilly Doolittle. If it had legs, I had it for a pet, or friend as some would say. I am sure I have told the story of one of my dogs named Albert. He was a Lab mix, and weighed in around 110 lbs. Much larger than the then 12-year-old Hillbilly. I would get home from school and take the two cans of diet Pepsi, and the multiple Blo-Pops and head out to the field to set under the Black Walnut tree and share both with my furry pal. I had to be quick, because after I took a couple of licks on the sucker, Albert knew it was his turn, and would try to eat the whole thing. Sometimes I would have to rinse his tongue with Pepsi due to the dirt stuck to it because he was trying to eat the Black Walnuts. This dog followed me every where. One Saturday morning I went outside and he was not there. Sadly, this meant he wondered to far from home and probably met the business end of a car. I found him a half a mile away on the side of the road, smashed up pretty good. I am sure he never felt a thing. I had to take him home in a wheel-barrow. It took me about half an hour to load him up for his final ride. As I was crossing the two lane highway, the wheel-barrow shifted and Albert fell out. Great, nothing like getting him ran-over for a second time, and me for the first. I was pretty sharp, still am, so I grabbed him by the tail and druggem’ to the side of the road. And re-loaded him up again.