Occurance

You’ll think I complain. No, I say it as it is. You think I’m not thankful. I am. Sixty days ago I was in Iraq, going to chow, waiting for a bird to come and take me away and was following a sewer truck that was slamming on breaks with 120mm mortars coming in front of us. Thinking of it, I knew I have just come home from a war. Now it occurs to me that I have just come home from a war.

I am home.

The Appalachianist

"Take Me To The Speedway"

"Take me to the speedway. Drive me through the red clay. We're just going circles everyday."

The Appalachianist

Squeaky

I got to talking to a man down at The Legion the other night. Turns out I know his brother, big hound hunter. He was driving up the road the one night when two Walker Hounds come out into the road. He hits one, felt it go over it. So, he stops, gets out and the dog is laying there. Then, it gets up, and runs off wobbling a little. So he calls his brother and asked if he was running his hounds there, which he was, and asked if it was his dog. No, they tree’d the Coon and killed it. He asked if he was sure. He was sure. Then a little later he called back and said there was a big skinned place on the dogs head. Sure enough he ran over his brothers dog.

Bear Hunting with Hounds is a hoot. It’s the most efficient way to hunt bears in this part of the country, baiting is illegal and sitting a stand trying to call one or chance it takes actionable intelligence. But, the Dogs make it a tad special. Hounds are relentless, as long as they have sight or scent of the bear they don’t stop. They won’t quit until themselves or the bear is dead, unless pulled off. The Plott Hound is considered the best of the Bear Dogs by most. They are smart, fierce, have a good nose…They were bred for Bear in what is now Haywood County NC (hence the Plott Balsams). They are the NC State Dog even. There are some varying stories to the breeds linage, and some of it folk tales. But no Hound Hunter turns their nose up to a Plott. They’re not all perfect, it’s been said a good bear dog is hard to come by and the right line of Plotts is good. I bough Squeaky off of a man Twister had hunted with over in Franklin stein, paid the man hard cold cash. The mans dad had died and bear hunting just wasn’t the same without his dad, so he stopped. Squeaky hadn’t hunted in almost two years. But, Squeaky had a real good reputation among some of the boys I had hunted with over there. I was told he had a good nose, struck bear, didn’t pay as much mind to a coon, had ran a deer before, but had had help from other dogs and he had fight in him. Not to mind this, he’s as gentle as they come. I wouldn’t think twice about a young in walking up to him. He wasn’t all healthy though, he had kennel cough, his eyes were matted and snot pouring from his nose. The boy was treating him for it with amoxicillin. I boosted up his protein and took him to a vet, got a whole ten day supply of an antibiotic that I cant quote the name of. It clearedup, but he has couhed some since, I think it’s allergies, h gets a snotty nose too. But he’s smart. I walked him across a fresh deer track and h paid I no mind, has struck a bear four times while out walking him (getting the two of us into some better shape) and one here on my drive way. The day I got him Twister had a mangy coon that rode in a cage in the back of my truck with Squeaky (another story) and he could have cared less.

I got plans to stud him for pick of the litter. A boy out the raod saw him and said he wanted one of the pups. He’s a brindle color, with some grey in the snout. I came home yesterday evening and he had pulled off his chain meeting me at the bottom of the drive way, I told him to get in the back of the truck which he did. I’ve only had to pick him up once. I bet he’ll close the door on the dog box as well.

I’ll down load his picture here before too long. Get this, on his papers his given name is Rambo...

The Appalachianist

Strangeylvania County

Cell Phone Bandito
Last Tuesday (26th of June) was my birthday. I hit 39 if your wondering. It was not a good one for several reasons that there is no need to get into. The darndest thing was my cell phone was stolen. My washing machine leaks, so, I went to the laundry mat. I either left the phone in my truck while I stepped inside or placed it on the change machine and got all absent minded. I pretty sure it was in my truck. A Mexican boy was in the parking lot in a red Ford Explorer. I went up the road to a store and went back. I looked for my phone...it's not in the truck, Mexican boy is gone. So I wound up standing in the lobby of the Sheriffs Department for going on two hours waiting for someone to "investigate". There was someone to do it, but he was busy investigating something already. The Dispatcher got to feeling bad for me and talked a Detective off of a case to basically fill out my report. Then I filed my claim with the phone insurance people, system error, had to do it twice.
The Reguvinator calls my number and a Mexican boy answered. He says he found it and is trying to return it, he's in Cashiers. The Reguvinator told him to call him and he would get it at 6 that night. Never called. So, I got my new phone, program it and listen to my messages. Two for Carlos in Spanish. So, last night while hanging at House Of Jello, Mystery Girl, who speaks extremely fluent Spanish, listened to the messages. It's Carlo s's wife and she needs him to come home, then, she said it was almost 10 and she was not going to let him go out no more. My cell phone was stolen by a hen pecked Mexican. I hope she leaves him. Maybe he "spent the night on the hard old floor with nothing to cover up with".

The Story Of The Naked Girl
Jellouise looked out the kitchen window and seen a young girl, early twenties, walking around naked in broad daylight. Then, a few minutes later she was riding a bycycle across their yard wearing only a T shirt. It was The Reguvinators bike, he goes and gets it from her, she makes a week effort to hold onto it, and he said he was calling the Police. She says, "yes, call the police...Help me". He took the bike back to the garage only to see his bike sitting there...Oops. Naked girl crossed the street and knocked on a mans door. He answers and she said "can you help me?". He asked how and she took off her shirt...I thought that only happened in skin flicks...Someone called the Police. Turns out the girl was doing acid and was...Well, tripping. I think the cops decided to take her to the hospital, which was the safest place for her. Now, the girl and her fellar are being evicted. Might as well, the whole neighborhood got to see her without her clothes. There was something about a big dog running lose in City limits too.

It's funny, I was gone for fourteen months, and in some ways it was like I never left. But, I was gone none the less. For two weeks, I didn't think of Iraq, and now...Now it's like, "yeah, I was in Iraq for a year". I've joined the VFW and The American Legion. Oh, that reminds me of a dog story...And you want to know about my Plott. I've got stuff to say, but, I'm going to post this and start drafting the other.

I'ma Drafting It Boss
The Appalachianist