Arbo

His bones ached

 

 

Arbo lay in the Springtime sun, warming his old, aching bones. He dreamt of long days past when he ran effortlessly through woods and fields with his hound dog ears and loose, flexible skin moving in fluid waves like ripples on a pond. Jumping over large logs and rocks with ease, he treed raccoons and even a few bobcats. Often, he fought them, and now bore the scars: tattered ears, torn lips and numerous lacerations about his head and neck. Arbo was a coon dog--an old, tired, coon dog. His bones hurt, his teeth hurt, and he just wanted to lie there and enjoy what comfort he could before the final sunset.

The day I saw Arbo, we were visiting dad's sister, Hettie, and her husband, Lunsford. They were country folks who lived in an old, unpainted wooden house with a big front porch. They had a well with a bucket on a chain that would be full of cold water when you lowered it down and brought it back up. I was three years old, and I liked it when they let me get a drink from the bucket. Between the well and the big front porch lay Arbo. I had a puppy at home that liked to be petted. I liked dogs. I would pet Arbo.

The bite was entirely a shock. My hand hurt, and there were some little red spots on it. I cried. Lunsford said something like, "Sammy, you shouldn't try to pet Arbo--he's old". No one picked me up and blew on my owie. I stood there bawling, and they let me. They were country folks.

Now sixty-three years later, my bones hurt. I bear the scars of life, both inner and outer. Sometimes I bite. I don't mean to, but I do. Please remember that they didn't shoot Arbo.

 

Author's Note

My memory goes all the way back, even to when I nursed or scooted around on the floor, unable to walk. I don't know what the old hound's real name was, but I sure remember what happened that day. Age and health problems now gives me special insight into why he bit me. I'd have bit me, too.

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

Please don't bite me! But if you do, I promise not to take you out back and shoot you. I'll give you a cookie and hope that will settle you down.

It's amazing how far back our memories can go. I always love hearing your memories. It's kinda sad you didn't receive any comfort, but I guess that was a different place and a different time. It sounds like you were given plenty of room to fool around and find things out for yourself. The world can be a harsh teacher.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. I learned not to pet old, sleeping dogs--that's for sure. Yes, the world can be a harsh teacher, but learn, we must.

[M.E.Lyle]

What a great story. What wonderful memories. I remember my grandparents had an old bucket that sat just inside the back door. It had a large ladle for dipping water. Everybody drank from it. I don't remember anybody catching any diseases from it. My grandfather built windmills for pumping water. They lived in the Texas panhandle near Amarillo.
I'm as old as you, and thankfully, nobody has shot me either.

[Samuel Dickens]

Hey, ain't we lucky? Thanks for reading.

[Relic]

I can remember getting my diaper changed on the couch and my father looking down at me and waving as he past us. I don't know why that sticks in my head, usually things traumatic stick in our heads forever. Some can even shape our personality.

I imagine the unexpected bite from Arlo was a jolt to the synapse in your brain that was suddenly forced to change directions in an instant. I'm sure Aro may have felt bad about it later when you weren't around though. Man's best friend gets old and snippy just like people I guess. Getting old is no fun. Everyone will learn that sooner or later.

Always a pleasure.

Relic.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks. My first wife's memory began at the age of about five. It's funny how, even with the long memories you and I have, that we recall some things and not others. (I'm assuming it's like that with you)

[Relic]

It is. Some things I struggle to remember but can't or it turns out different than I originally thought. Things that have strong impact on us stay forever. 911, Kennedy assassination, Pearl Harbour....)

[Willard Wells]

Great memories to me with this write. At about 7 years old an uncle I was staying with in Missouri got me up very early one morning and with his hound dogs we were off on a hunt. Fun piece I liked a great deal. Very well done.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Willard. Early memories like these seem written in indelible ink.

[Willard Wells]

I have felt for sometime that the pain of the past fades over time, but the happiness of the past can always be brought to the front and the joy can be enjoyed again, but not the pain.

[Samuel Dickens]

I mostly agree. Perhaps it depends on the degree of pain and whether it was ever dealt with.

[Tomás Ó C..]

A great reflection on life and its turns. All ahead of me yet. My teeth are near gone, so my botes will be harmless! Unless I get dentures!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Tomas. My bite isn't that dangerous, either.

[Dara]

I imagine that might be a memory you would have rather forgotten but would definitely stick in one's mind. I just want to pick up that little two year old and wipe away his tears :-) Great story, Samuel.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Dara. I think Mother may have regretted being that way, later in life.

[Dara]

Looking back I would have liked a few "do overs" myself. Guess we did what we thought was best at the time.

[Woody]

your writing is as usual, fascinating. you're not only a master at drawing characters. your animals are delightful too.
now, what I find fascinating is your ability to remember things from when you were 2 years old!!!!
the farthest back I have ever been able to go is when I was six and Dad took me to school for the first time.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Woody. Your memory is like that of most folks. Mine is strange, just like the rest of me.

[Daffy]

Excellent, Samuel. You are right in this write, it is clear. Interestingly, I too can remember very clearly my early years, and all the streets as they were. It seems like yesterday. Do you like nostalgia I wonder....PS: please explain to me what a 'coon dog' is.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Daphne. A "coon dog" is one which is trained to hunt raccoons. It's a very common term, especially in the southern US.

[Daffy]

Hi Samuel. I have become to like your language in the Southern US, but of course, the animals are different to the ones here, and my knowledge of your country is very limited. Your stories are helping me as well as being a good bedtime read.

[Samuel Dickens]

That makes me smile.

[Cryingkate]

Samuel,
No fair, you just don't write fair :-). How come every story you write makes me want to just hold you tight.
I wish you were closer so I could share hugs and dinners and sew your clothes and blow your nose on those rainy days.
I wish we was neighbors, but I wouldn't pull down the fence cause some days I bite too,even though I don't mean too :-)
(((Hugs))) You Big Bear

[Samuel Dickens]

I thank you immensely. Tough lessons were part of my growing up, but they helped me become a survivor.

[Will Neill]

' I used to do it all night-now it takes all night to do it' ---enquote, nice one Sam, you old coon dog.
Will.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Will. Yeah, I'm an old, cranky coon dog.

[Craig2591]

Ha! Nice twist at the end. Made me laugh! The description of the old dog was very good. I could picture him easily.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks a lot, Craig.