my visit with my grandfather

Evening Loves,

Unfortunately, I have had the crummy sickness this past week, and have spent most of my time, on my back, starring at my ceiling because if I moved ever so slightly things may stir that I do not want stirring. Very boring, but finally made it to my parents house where my mother has been hell bent on getting me better, and thankfully so. Truthfully, being sick is for the birds, and even I do not wish that one them, poor little creatures. Today, I was able to slowly wander over to my grandfather's house where I was at least able to lounge on a different couch, and it has been my favorite couch to date; honestly, being at my grandparents is what I would imagine being on a warm fuzzy cloud where someone feeds you honey in small nectar like drops (I have a strange obsession with honey these last few months for some reason) would be like. My grandfather gingerly sat on the couch perpendicular to mine and we started to shoot the breeze, and he started to tell me some really fantastic war and childhood stories.


He told me about Royal, my Grandfather's uncle, who was actually only three years older than him. They did everything together. They were partners in crime and apparently Royal could train a horse or a dog to do just about anything. Royal trained his horse to do just what Royal trained him to do, and if you did not know the horse you would have no way of knowing these commands. For instance, a new rider tried to get this little horse to cross the river and if you gave him his head to drink, he would just lay down right in the river. The poor rider would be soaked! If you went to call the horse from the carrel, it would trot to the far end and play the "i will not come anywhere near you game" all day, until you picked up a club and threatened to beat it. Then, this being proper signal, a sign of being beat, it would know it could trust the caller. Grandpa sort of inherited this little horse when Royal went to War during World War II. He was lost in a field battle, and Grandpa found out one of his closest friends and family members was killed in action while he was in boot camp. It was a hard memory for him, but he spoke so proudly of his days with Royal, and all the trouble they could get into.

Grandpa told me about his first few dogs, one he raised from a pup, but he could not have in the house because his mother wouldn't let him. The pup had to stay in the barn. The dog was hit by a car and Grandpa had to try and save him, and due to complications, the pup could not make it so Grandpa Llyod had to take care of the pup because Grandpa did not have the heart. They never spoke of it after.

His next dog, really followed commands, and was proving to be a great cattle dog. His Uncle wanted to take Grandpa's new dog on the cattle drive and grandpa let him. The poor pup was cornered by a cow and she trampled him. They returned to camp with out his dog, and Ray (my grandpa) and Grandpa Lloyd (great grandfather) had to go out looking for him. They found him pretty beat up, and he was never the same, mostly scared of cattle after that incident.  Grandpa would never let his uncle take his dogs out again.

I would be so sad if something happened to my pup. Banks certainly is not the working type, and he would be terrified at the first sight of a bull I bet, or he would be overly friendly and try to lick the bulls face and then we have more problems then necessary.

Banks is my first dog, and he is just lounging by the fire as I blog about some life things. He just wants to snuggle these days, have a good meal everyday, and would love with all his heart to chase the dear right outside the windows of my parents place. He did take off after them the other day and we didn't see him for at least 15 minutes. He just came trotting back to the house like a winning pony. 

Twas a truly good time on the couch at Grandpa's today. He is such a wonderful man, I am so lucky to have him as my grandfather still to this day! I love love love him!!

- love Jo