See You on the Lake
Ol Bull: every boy needs a friend like this growing up
Woody Cooper

I would guess that everyone has had one or more pets during their lifetime. It may be that for most of us the pet was during our childhood. Some of us hold on to our love of pets long after reaching adulthood. If you would like to see my household you will find three pet cats and two pet dogs. We love all of them and they probably eat more often and probably better than family members do. Most of my "pets" just wander into my life. The only two that were given to me was OL BULL and the egg that my pet duck, Woodstock came out of. My first two pets were mine before I was five years old. One was a donkey that came ambling up the lane to our farmhouse. No one knew who the animal belonged to but the old donkey was put into the pen to hold until we heard who the rightful owner gas. I decided that I was a cowboy. and slipped out and climbed the fence and flung myself astride. My older brothers and my father thought it was funny and let me ride it until the day that we tried to cross the little creek that ran by our place. We made it down the bank and when we started up the other aide the burro slipped and I slid off her rump and into the soft muddy creek. The animal stepped on my head and other than a headache I was o.k. That ended my ownership and my dream of being a cowboy. I don't know what happened to it but it was gone forever. My next "pet" was a goose. I was walking the lane when I heard a noise over the creek bank. Looking closer I spied a huge goose. It was a wild goose that had been shot in the wing. The big bird hissed at me and I hissed back and grabbed it by the neck. If you have ever had a wild goose by the neck you might think that you had a tiger by the tail. That old goose would surely have killed me if one of my brothers hadn't heard the commotion and ran down to separate us. You know, no one needed to hold me back I was hoping that all my brothers would all grab the old goose cause he was the one that needed holding. Anyway I got to see him get well in about a month. I fed it every day and he never attacked me again. They let me watch as they turned him loose and he was a beautiful sight on wing. I have mentioned it before in some of the articles that I have written about the many animals and birds that have shared a part of my life. There was one goat, one duck, many cats, a bushel of dogs, several birds and a few squirrels. Many rabbits also most of them tame white ones with pink eyes. There was only one Ol Bull. She was a lady. Unfortunately many, of my pets, including OL Bull met an untimely end. One of my pet chickens and my Duck were killed by dogs. Two of my dogs were run over by cars and my goat went early to the kitchen table.

While living with a half Aunt until I was twelve it was my misfortune to have to accompany her to "tent revivals" in our community. There was a Tent revival in full swing all Spring, Summer and Fall in rural and small town America in the 2O's and 30's. My Aunt did not attend any church but she attended every service of every Tent Revival within miles of home. She also attended all singing conventions, all day preaching in the small churches and outdoor events. She very often found a way to get something to make a Sunday meal for company and would ask one of those self made preachers to come share our food. After one of those events I went outside to feed my chicken some cornbread that I had slipped into my pocket. I couldn't find her and this was unusual. I looked until dark and for the next three days I scoured the alleys and yards of the town. For some reason I looked into the trash barrel in the alley and it became very clear where my pet hen had gone. There in the trash barrel was a head, two feet and feathers. I never forgave my Aunt nor all chicken eating preachers.

I didn't mention it. OL BULL was given to me by an uncle soon after I was moved from Arkansas to Oklahoma at age five. My Aunt said that there was no extra food for her and that it would be my sole responsibility to care for her. I had a special trip each day to all the cafes, meat markets and grocery stores seeking anything that was going to be thrown away. I guess the people liked what they saw because OL BULL ate pretty good. Her pug nosed scarred face, clipped ears and fat lips were very pretty to me and she would snuggle up to me and listen to me talk to her and I think she knew what I was saying. Once a bully about three years older sicked his big dog onto Ol Bull and my dog whipped up on his pretty good. He always carried a big stick and he whacked my dog hard with it. I had always been intimidated by him but I attacked him with fists, nails, elbows and teeth. My Uncle heard the big noise and pulled me off the screaming crying bully before I killed him. It was funny but he always wanted to be my friend after that introduction to warfare. During my childhood there was something that the women folks would decide was fearful. "MAD DOG" was brought up almost every summer. If a poor dog staggered or stumbled or had a foam on a lip from running some lady would shout MAD DOG and every woman in town would take up the cry. A dog had come into our yard and had

challenged my dog so they had a chewing contest for a few seconds before the intruder decided that anywhere but here would be a better place to be. Later that day the dog was sighted by a woman who screamed MAD DOG and a neighbor shot and killed the animal. Someone told the authorities that my dog had been bitten by it and my Uncle let them kill my dog. I never forgave him for that little move. I still think of OL BULL with tenderness after eighty years have passed. Of all our pets there is usually one that stands out and OL BULL is my stand out.

Buckle Up, Drive With Care, Put On A Life Jacket And I'll See You On The Lake.