Category Archives: Fishing Ramblings – My Fishing Blog

Random thoughts and musings about fishing

Fires To Keep You Warm

There is nothing quite like warming up in front of a fire this time of year. No heaters provide the same kind of roasting warmth as you get from open flames. Inside by a fireplace or outside by a roaring barn fire on a freezing day, the flames will keep you warm. At least on one side.

As a kid we were taught not to play with fire but also were taught how to build fires and cook on them. Every camping trip from the time I was eight years old and sleeping within feet of the house in the back yard involved some kind of fire.

We managed to build them in all kinds of weather, from the middle of the summer when you didn’t want to get close, even to roast a marshmallow, to pouring rain where we had to build the fire under some kind of lean-to. In the winter we curled up near them in sleeping bags, rolling often to try to keep both sides warm. And the glow was very comforting when telling ghost stories around them, but the glow just didn’t go far enough!

Different kinds of wood burned in different ways but we usually just went by what we could find already dead. Our hatchets did chop down small dead trees but mostly we cut up fallen limbs too big to break. Pine straw made a good starter but we usually slipped in some newspaper, too.

Building the fire circle, a some-what round circle of rocks to keep the fire contained, was a tedious process. It took a long time to find enough rocks the right size. But then laying the wood out and getting the fire started was the challenging part. If not laid out just right it seemed we got a big flame for a few seconds when the paper and pine straw lit but then nothing. Wood too big, too damp or stacked wrong just would not light.

Matches were frowned on but we always had some. I tried many times to start a fire by striking flint on steel and even rubbing sticks together but matches always worked. And I always had to turn to them to get my fire started. At least I was prepared, with Strike Anywhere matches with their heads dipped in wax so they would light under wet conditions.

Cooking on the fire was always fun and most of the time the end results was somewhat edible. I loved marshmallows roasted on a straightened coat hanger or stick but always let mine catch on fire. No nicely toasted brown marshmallow with a hot center for me. I wanted mine burned black on the outside and melted on the inside. The hot melted marshmallow would burn your tongue every time but you hd to eat it fast before it dripped onto the ground!

I cooked hotdogs the same way. The only difference was they would not flame up like the marshmallows. But they would have a nice crispy black side with other sides not cooked much at all. But that mixture of textures and flavors just made them better, like a fine five course French meal.

My favorite fire cooked dinner of all time was what we called a “campfire dinner.” I learned it in my RA group at church. A big patty of ground meat was placed on a square of tin foil and sliced potatoes, carrots, onions and a chunk of butter were stacked on top. The tinfoil was folded around it making a sealed pack that was placed on hot coals. When opened you could eat it right from the tinfoil and its steamy goodness was very filling. And you didn’t have to wash dishes!

Breakfast was always a complex challenge, with toast burnt on the open fire, bacon burned on one end and almost raw on the other and eggs scrambled in the bacon grease until most of it was somewhat cooked. I don’t know how many times my friends and I cooked a breakfast like that and survived. The food police would have heart attacks now days seeing kids eat half cooked bacon and eggs – with everything from ashes to pieces of pine straw and egg shells mixed in!

None of the above would have been possible without our great fire building skills. Sometimes when I fire up my fireplace insert I remember those days. Even though I now use a chainsaw and gas powered wood splitter, I still love having a fire. And I still can’t get it started without plenty of newspaper! My central heat and air system just does not keep the house warm right. Not like the fire does.

From the forecast it looks like I will need a big fire the next week!

What Is It Like To Be In A Deer Camp?

Deer Camp

Deer camp. Those two words can conjure up many different meanings for different people. You can really know what a deer camp is only if you have spent time in one. And not just a day or so, but days at a time, year after year for many years.

There are always a few workers that show up early and get things set up, clearing debris, cutting grass, stocking the cook tent and generally making things right for everyone. They are the ones you call on when you need something done because you know they are dependable and will do what needs to be done.

As the rest of the club members trickle in, there are time worn greetings, often repeated by the same people to the same people year after year. New members are greeted somewhat warily, with long-time members slowly testing them out to see how they fit in. It can be worse than a fraternity rush!

By mid-afternoon on opening day of camp there is a roaring fire going, a requirement of all deer camps. Never mind that it is 85 degrees and sunny, you gotta have a fire. And everyone sits around it, close if the weather is cool and way back if a typically hot Georgia weekend greets you.

One member of the club is responsible for the fire. Not an elected position, someone just assumes the job of stoking the fire and keeping it going. He will usually be one of the first ones up in the morning, adding firewood until a bright blaze greets the rest of the club. Sometime the job is formalized with a title, but usually it is just acknowledged by long standing habits.

The fireman’s job also involves keeping a kettle full of water boiling over the fire. Sometimes the hot water is used for washing dishes, but often it just boils way, only to be replenished to boil away again. Sometimes peanuts are added to the water for wonderful snacks for those sitting around the fire, but many times the boiling water is as useful as boiling water at a birth.

At some point the story telling starts. Members who have been in the club for years nod in anticipation of highlights because they have heard the same story every year. But everyone pays attention because something new is sometimes slipped in, but seldom will anyone argue a point, even if they were there and know the truth. Fishermen have nothing over hunters when it comes to tall tales about the size of the one that got away.

Good natured ribbing is always part of the conversation. Hunters shooting a small deer are repeatedly reminded of it by statements like “We searched and searched for that deer, and finally found it when we turned over a leaf” or “remember, he toted it out of the woods by the hind legs like a rabbit.” The object of the story always just grins and bears it, or the ribbing gets even worse.

Kids are an integral part of a good deer camp. After all, they are what it is all about. Without kids coming up to learn the traditions of the camp it will end at some point. Youngsters usually sit enthralled with the stories because they want to be like the adults and experience the excitement the story refreshes. And they haven’t heard the same story dozens of times.

Food is always fantastic in camp, partly because anything just tastes better when cooked and eaten out in the woods. But there is often one member of the club that is a good cook and takes care of the kitchen, making sure the roast is put on and taken off at the right times and bringing the chili to just the right temperature to cook and not burn.

Each member has his specialty for food, too. Everyone eagerly anticipates the unveiling of the carrot cake, a treat no one wants to miss. And the brownies are jealousy watched as they are passed around to make sure no one hoards them or gets more than his fair share.

Deer camp means tradition. It is the passing on of a way of life that people cherish and want to preserve, especially for their children. No matter how hectic and troubling the world gets, deer camp tradition means some sane part of what is important to you will always be there. It is a way to save what you value most.

How Do Wild Animals Survive the Winter?

Its nice to be able to deal with the cold weather by building a big fire, curling up under a thick blanket or turning up the thermostat. But what do critters in the wild do? They deal with the cold in many different ways.

We all know bears hibernate, but they don’t, really. Bears sleep though the winter but they can wake up. Their heartbeat slows way down but nothing like true hibernation. A ground squirrel does hibernate. Their heartbeat is around 300 beats per minute in warm weather but it slows down to only one beat per minute while they are hibernating. You can not wake one up until you warm it up.

Bugs like wasps deal with the cold by finding a protected area to hide in. At my farm, where the heat does not stay on, they find a good place to hold up during the cold by coming into my room in the barn. If I turn on the heat they start moving around when it warms up. Those don’t survive the winter.

Hornets abandon their paper hives in trees and the female will find a hole in the ground or a hollow tree to spend the winter. Then when it warms up it starts a new hive, just like the female wasps that survive. As they build the nest and lay eggs their hive grows and gets bigger and bigger.

Most warm blooded animals and birds have to stay active and find food all winter long. Some birds migrate long distances to avoid the cold When I was growing up we read about robins being the sign of spring, but that seemed silly since robins were around all winter long. The reason is robins from northern states, where the ground stays frozen for long periods of time, have to fly south. It is real hard to find earthworms, robins’ favorite food, when the ground is frozen.

So here in middle Georgia we will see robins all winter long. They head back north with the spring and really are signs of spring up there, but not here.

For a while I could not understand why I saw so many blue herons in the winter, then I realized there is no way they could get fish from frozen lakes. So they fly south to find open water where they can feed during the winter. As lakes and ponds thaw further north they head back that way.

Geese, ducks and many other kinds of water birds also fly south for the winter, then head back north as it warms to nest and start the cycle over again. Some birds do stick around in the winter and find food the best they can. Wild turkey can’t fly long distances so they have to scratch in the snow to dig up food.

Squirrels are famous for burying acorns and they do it to have a food supply during the winter. They don’t remember where they bury their acorns, they find them by sniffing them out. So they may eat other squirrels acorns if they find them. That is one reason they are so territorial in the winter, trying to run others off.

Deer and other big game have to eat foods they ignore in better times. They will feed on honeysuckle, green briar and other evergreen plants during the winter. But they depend on their fat supply, too. Deer feed heavily on acorns in the fall and build up layers of fat to sustain them all winter long. That is the reason a good acorn crop is so critical to deer herds.

Cold blooded animals like fish just get real inactive. They go to deeper water and hold near the bottom, feeding rarely. They will eat an easy meal if one comes close but bass and bream don’t move around a lot in real cold water. Other species, like hybrids and stripers, are more adapted to cold water and feed all winter long.

Some species of trout, like steelhead, feed in very cold water. Steelhead are just rainbow trout that are hatched in streams but swim out to lakes or the ocean, live a grow a few years then go back into streams to spawn. They get big and fight hard, and live to spawn many times, unlike some species of salmon that die after spawning.

You may have noticed hawks on power lines along roads recently. This behavior happens each winter. You won’t see many until it gets cold. They move to roadsides to catch mice and birds that live along ditches since food in the woods gets scarce this time of year. Many get hit by cars as they swoop across roads to grab a mouse for lunch.

Critters have it much worse than we do. They have to adapt to the cold. We can just throw another log on the fire and be glad we don’t have to sleep outside!

Camping At Wind Creek State Park In Alabama

Although I grew up on Clarks Hill Lake in Georgia and still have a lake house there, my favorite lake of the dozens I visit each year is Lake Martin in Alabama. I have been fishing the lake and camping at Wind Creek State Park since my first club tournament there in 1975, at least once a year and often four or more times each year.

Last month I went to a club tournament there. Wind Creek has improvements made to the ramp and parking as an Alabama Tournament Lake and it is a great facility. The staff at the campground office and marina were extremely nice and helpful.

Four rules there confused me so I checked them out after I got home.

One, my partner and I were to set up a tent he was bringing but he was delayed until Thursday morning. I slept in my van Wednesday night. When he arrived early the next morning we went fishing, leaving both vehicles and boat trailer on the campsite I had paid for, with coolers, a grill and other camping things on the site. At 2:00 pm I received a call from the park saying my site was not in compliance since there was no tent on it and it would be considered open. That was no problem since there were only three sites in use in the whole area of over 40 sites, but they insisted I come in and set up a tent immediately.

I called and talked to Bruce Adams when I got home. He is a ranger at the park. He explained the rule about a tent was for the convenience of other campers to know the site was open but they would make exceptions if you were in an RV since that might be the only way to travel. That seems strange – You can leave a site completely empty if you drive off in an RV but you can’t leave a bunch of stuff on your site without a tent or it will be considered vacant. Seems an empty site would give others coming into the park the idea it was available much more than one with a bunch of stuff on it.

Two, we stop the second day of our annual two day tournament at 1:00 on Sunday since the rule has always been we had to vacate the campsite by 2:00 and we could pack up after weigh-in. This year the rule, printed on the front of the park pass under Campsite, Visitor, Cabins, is you have to vacate the site by 11:00 am. I found out the 11:00 checkout is only for cabins – on the back it says checkout of campground after 2:00 requires an additional fee. We did not notice the note on the front only applied to cabins when we saw it just before going to bed Saturday night.

Three, there is a rule only one camping unit can be on a site. That meant my partner and I have to sleep in the same tent, no matter how much one of us snores or any other problems that may cause. That does not seem very tournament friendly. And it seemed several sites around me had more than two units with many people using them.

I was told that was also for other campers convenience and the park was in the business of selling campsites, so two men to sleep in different units would have to get two sites.

Fourth is you must camp in a “real” RV or tent. Does that mean my van, which I have built a bed in and carry microwave, coffee pot, heater, fan, radio and other camping equipment, is not “real?”

I was told my van would be a real RV since it is set up for camping.

These rules apply to all campgrounds in all Alabama State Parks.

Yellowjackets and Fishing

I should have killed the yellow jackets in the nest at my dock faster. A few days ago when I went to the farm and when I got near the dock I would see the yellow jackets flying around their hole. I really didn’t think it was a problem and went out on the dock to fish.

I guess my dog Rip was attracted to the noise, or he just stepped in the wrong place. I heard him “yip” and when I looked at him his black coat was half yellow. He was furiously pawing at his face and scratching. When I yelled at him he finally came to me on the dock. Unfortunately, he brought the yellow jackets with him.

I grabbed Rip and threw him in the water, which helped him but left many of the swarm of mad yellow jackets with me. They started stinging me and I took my cell phone and wallet out of my pocket and got ready to jump in the pond myself.

I guess I knocked enough of them off me and killed them that they stopped. I noticed the bream were having a feast on the bugs in the water when I realized Rip had gone back to the bank, right at the nest, and was covered with them again.

Rip hates swimming and often will not come near me on the dock. I think he remembers past trips when I helped him into the water to cool off. Anyway, this time he came running to me, like he realize getting in the water helped. I threw him in again and, again got some stings before I could kill the ones around me.

When I looked for Rip he had swam to the bank and was sitting in the water up to his neck. He knew staying in the water protected him this time.

When I got him and eased around the nest I noticed something had been digging at it. The next day I went back with a drink of gasoline for the striped stingers but they were gone. There was a much bigger hole and parts of the nest were on the dock where something had dug it up and ate the larvae. The rest of the bugs went away.

Raccoons and skunks will dig up nest like that. I guess the meal is worth the pain, or their furry coats protect them. I wonder if armadillos will dig them up, too. The armor plating on a possum on the half shell should protect them from the stings.

No matter what dug them up, I am glad they are gone!

Watching the World Wake Up From A Deer Stand

In honor of deer season opening here in Georgia – yes, I do hunt since I love venison!

There is something special about sitting 30 feet up in an oak tree during deer season. You have made your way to your stand in the dark, easing through the still woods with nothing to guide you but your flashlight and any markers you put up during daylight. The woods look completely different and nothing is the same.

When you finally settle on your seat and arrange everything carefully so you can move into shooting position without a sound, you relax. It is about 30 minutes before legal shooting time and far too dark to see a deer on the ground, anyway.

The first thing you notice are the stars. Clear and bright beyond anything you can see from town, they are hard and cold. And if the air is icy they do not blink at all, they just stare at you wondering how you intruded into their night world.

Then you hear a sound, a slight crackling in the leaves. Is it the big buck you seek, moving past you well before you have any chance to take it? Or is it a raccoon making his last food forage before the sun runs him into hiding? Or is it Bigfoot coming after you for his breakfast?

Then you remember the mountain lion killed near LaGrange last year – not nearly far enough away. In the dark you will never know what it is, but your imagination sure can go wild.

Then there is a little lightening of the sky to the east. The stars seem to fade a little in that direction and within minutes vague shapes emerge on the forest floor. That one beside the big pine has to be a trophy buck staring at you, doesn’t it? You don’t dare move for fear of spooking him. Please let him stay there for just long enough to get shooting light.

Shooting light proves the big buck to be a stump. You knew it was there but the gray light changed it. Bushes, trees, rocks and stumps take on a different life before the sun comes up.

Suddenly you notice your breath. Foggy plumes issue from you into the air, like waving a white flag for any wise old buck to stay clear. So you breathe gently, trying to make it disappear.

When it gets light enough to shoot, you keep your head still and move only your eyes. When you hear a distinct crunch in the leaves behind you, there is absolutely no doubt it is a squirrel. No deer ever makes that much noise. There is no reason to even look. So you inch your head around as carefully as possible, with tiny movements. Sure enough, there is that bushy tail.

Birds appear like out of a magician’s hat, suddenly perching on limbs around you and greeting the sun. They go about their breakfast business as you watch. It is amazing how many different kinds of birds inhabit Georgia woods. And when a woodpecker drums on the tree just over your head you almost jump to the ground in fear.

Minutes drag, but suddenly you have been in the tree for hours. The sun is high and bright and there has not been a sign of a deer. But just as you decide to leave for the day, you see a whitetail standing broadside to you not 30 yards away in the open. How in the world did it get there? It must have popped out of the ground like a mushroom.

Your heart pounds louder than the woodpecker’s racket until you see it is a doe and you are not meat hunting today. You watch her browse on acorns and enjoy her beauty, and wonder again about the conflict you feel shooting such a pretty animal, but knowing you will when the time comes, and enjoy venison cooked many ways.

It never fails. The doe leaves so you decide it is time to return to the real world. As you lower your gun to the ground a snort behind you snaps your head around and there stands the biggest buck you have ever seen, watching you intently. And your gun is 30 feet below. No matter, you would not have time to raise it to fire even if it was in your hands.

You watch as the buck bounds off, knowing this stand will be avoided for the rest of the season. But you have other stands and plans in mind. His time will come.

As you climb down, get your gun and start walking out of the woods, you wonder how anyone could consider such a day unsuccessful.

Ronnie Garrison

Ronnie Garrison is an outdoors internet, magazine and newspaper writer who has won many awards for his magazine, newspaper and internet columns, and the author of The Everything Fishing Book and “Keys To Catching Clarks Hill Bass” eBook. He fishes almost everyday and has been a bass club tournament fisherman for 39 years.
Experience:

Ronnie Garrison has written a weekly outdoor column for the Griffin Daily News since 1986 . His has been writing feature magazine articlse for state magazines since 1987 and he has over 500 articles published in Georgia Outdoor News, Alabama Outdoor News, Georgia Sportsman, Kitchen Drawer, Bassin Times, Bass Champions and Sporting Clays magazines and in 2002 wrote The Everything Fishing Book published by Adams Media. Those articles have won more than 30 “Excellence in Craft” awards from the Georgia Outdoor Writers Association. He is a member and past president of that organization and a member of Southeast Outdoor Press Association and Profession Outdoor Media Association.

From Ronnie Garrison:

Some of my earliest memories are of following my grandmother to local farm ponds, trying to catch anything that would bite. I never met a fish I didn’t want to catch. If you love fishing as much as I do, I think you will enjoy my About Fishing web site.

I love all kinds of fishing, both fresh and saltwater and enjoy trying to catch any kind of fish. Let me know what you like. What is your favorite. Give me a question about your specialty and I will help you find an answer!

Why Am I A Loyal Yamaha Outboard Motor Owner?

My Yamaha Outboard

My Yamaha Outboard

Yamaha Outboard Motors Got A Customer For Life!

In 2004 I bought a Skeeter 225 bass boat with a Yamaha 225 HPDI outboard motor. The boat was a “demo” boat owned by a salesman at a dealer in Atlanta and I got an excellent deal on it. The outfit was six months old when I got it, looked brand new and came with a full warranty on the boat and motor.

I really liked the Yamaha outboard. I had seven OMC motors and all gave me good service, but the HPDI got much better gas and oil usage, and it cranked very easily, even in cold weather. The motor ran good and I had no problems with it other than changing water filters often. I really liked the Skeeter boat, too, but had some serious problems with it, but that is another tale for later.

In 2010 I was at Sinclair working on a GON article and the motor made a strange noise and died just as we stopped on the last spot for the day, right at dark. It would not crank so we fished for a while, then the motor cranked right up. We ran in and I started and stopped and ran around some while waiting on the trailer. The motor never missed a beat and ran good.

I took the boat to Oconee Marine, a Yamaha dealer not too far from me, and they checked it out. They put it on the computer and could find nothing wrong with it.

A few days later in a club tournament at West Point the motor made a terrible sound and stopped. When I tried to crank it the sound was like shaking a sack of metal pieces. I fished back to the ramp and go the boat loaded and took it back to Oconee Marine the next day.

Two days later I got a call with bad news. The motor had come apart and I needed a new $8000 power head. The motor was over six years old at this point and a new one was very expensive so I told them to put one on. After all, I had a new lower unit from hitting a rock pile in Wisconsin, another tale for later, so I basically would have a new motor from top to bottom.

The next day I got a call from Oconee Marine with incredible news. They had contacted Yamaha and told them about checking the motor and finding no reason it should have blown. Yamaha comped me a new power head and the labor to install it! That was on a six year old motor, out of warranty and well used.

Yamaha really stands behind their motors. I have heard they have done the same for other Yamaha motor owners. I think the problem was the change to E10 gas with Ethanol in it, something the motor was not designed for. Now I am really worried with the coming planned change to E15 with even more alcohol. If I understand it right, no outboards and few cars are under warranty using that mix.

I have run the motor with the new power head for three more years not and it has not had a single problem.

If I buy another outboard motor it will definitely be a Yamaha!

Alaska Wildlife

Whales were everywhere!

Whales were everywhere!

Some of my best memories of the Alaska trip three years ago are of critters I can’t hunt or catch. Whales, sea lions, seals, orcas and dolphins all accompanied us on our cruise and we saw some of them most every day. And the day we visited a glacier and watch it calve, hearing the thunderous roar as huge chunks of ice fell into the bay, was amazing.

The first day out of Juneau we cruised into an arm of a fiord formed by glaciers over the past thousands of years and started seeing icebergs. The further up the fiord we traveled the thicker the ice got. While standing on the bridge beside the captain an watching the beautiful floating ice cubes I spotted movement.

Through binoculars I could see a spout and thought it might be dolphins, then saw something bigger, black and white, surface for a second. I asked the captain if there were killer whales in this area and he said yes, they came in there to hunt the harbor seals that had pups on the ice floes. I pointed out the movement to him and soon we spotted a pod of orcas surfacing as they moved up the fiord.

We were able to follow them for many minutes, watching as one big male with a huge dorsal fin kept to himself. Females, a couple with smaller versions of themselves, were closer together. The calves kept close to mama, following her every move.

A few days later we were halibut fishing and a big pod of orcas came by. Some would breech, jumping completely out of the water. A couple of the skiffs followed them but we kept fishing, trying to get our limit of halibut. Our boat got five that day for four fishermen, better than any of the others, but we missed most of the orca show.

For all one afternoon we cruised among humpback whales. At first when we saw the big spouts as they blew before diving everyone got excited. Several hours late they had to do something spectacular to draw an “ooh” or “ah,” like a breech by jumping out of the water or tail or fin slap. One whale slapped its long pectoral fin over and over. Later one slapped its tail repeatedly.

We were not allowed to approach them but several times they swam right up toward the ship. We watched one dive and blow a bubble ring, then come up in it to eat the small fish trapped by its “net.” At times we could see a dozen or more whales at one time.

A huge colony of Stella Sea Lions made lots of noise and smelled horrible, even from a couple of hundred yards out from where they fought on the beach. It was amazing, the sand and rocks were solid with their huge bodies and every time one moved several around it seemed to get mad and make noise, so the whole time there was constant movement and fussing.

The day we visited the glacier we got within a quarter mile of its face in the 18 foot skiffs and drank hot chocolate, braced with a little Bailey’s Irish Cream, while chunks of ice the size of our bigger ship fell into the water. The waves they created made big swells that made us hold on, even a quarter mile away, and ice bergs that fell earlier floated all around the skiff.

We watched harbor seals swim around us and lay on ice bergs near the glacier. Some of the bergs were an unbelievable blue, a color you just don’t normally see. And small dolphins often swam near the ship in their constant hunt for food.

A trip like this makes me realize how much wildlife there is left in places man has not destroyed – yet.

Dogs Really Are Man’s Best Friend

Rip loved to hunt - I really miss him

Rip loved to hunt – I really miss him

One of my all time favorite outdoor writers, Gene Hill, said “I can’t think of anything that brings me closer to tears than when my old dog – completely exhausted after a hard day in the field – limps away from her nice spot in front of the fire and comes over to where I’m sitting and puts her head in my lap, a paw over my knee, and closes her eyes, and goes back to sleep. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that kind of friend.”

Dogs are special. I know of no other creature that will give you unconditional love no matter how you treat them. They will protect you, be a comfort when you feel bad and make you even happier when you are in a good mood. They are loyal to you.

I have been lucky enough to have five such friends in my adult life. The only problem with dogs is they have such a short life span. You always lose them way too soon. They seem to be youthful and happy for years then suddenly they start getting old. In no time it is up to you to make sure they don’t suffer any longer.

Rip was special. He showed up at my farm uninvited and stayed around the barn. I had not had a dog in my life for about ten years and really didn’t want another one since it still hurt from having to put my first two down.

But Rip would run out and greet me, tail wagging and mouth smiling, every time I drove up. I tried to ignore him for a couple of weeks but he won my heart so I stopped and got food and water bowls, some dog food and a collar and headed to the farm.

As always he ran out to greet me but somehow slipped and fell. I felt the back tire of my truck bump over him before I could stop. When I got out of the truck he was standing there, looking at me like “uh o -I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Then he walked a few feet and blood came out with his urine when he went to the bathroom.

I was sure he would die so I didn’t even put the collar on him, but did put out some food and water. The next day I drove up and he ran out to greet me, wagging and smiling like nothing every happened. He surely didn’t blame me.

After putting on his collar I drove him to Memorial Drive Vet Clinic and had him examined. We could see the tire track across his lower stomach and hip. The vet said that was about the only place you could run over a dog and not kill it, but he might still have problems.

For the next ten years Rip lived at my house. He was rambunctious – I had to fence in the back yard to keep him from running off and getting in the highway, but he seemed perfectly happy. He was a mixture of lab and hound, and loved to chase and retrieve a ball. I had to hit a tennis ball with a racquet to make sure it went far enough so he would not get to it before it hit the ground.

Rip never barked. He also never met a stranger. I often took him to town in the back of my truck and usually someone would be petting him when I came out of the store. You could tell he was a happy, friendly dog.

The first time I got out my shotgun to kill a squirrel in the yard I was not sure what Rip would do. When I shot the gun he got excited and soon found the squirrel. In no time, if I walked out the door with a gun Rip started looking in the trees for my target. He seemed to learn to go around to the other side of a tree where I was looking for a tree rat so it would come around so I could shoot it.

Although gunfire didn’t bother him at all, he was terrified of thunder. In June during a late night thunder storm on Thursday night he dug under the fence and got out. Saturday afternoon we got a call that he had been hit by a car on Highway 19 not far from our house.

We took him to the emergency vet clinic in Fayetteville. We were real worried since he did not seem to know us and looked dazed. The vet treated him and said he was in shock.

A few hours later we called and they said he seemed to be resting comfortably but they were worried about him since he still seemed to be dazed, but they were hopeful. Then, at about 11:00 PM, they called and said he had gone into convulsions. They felt he had brain damage and said there was less than a 25 percent chance of recovery. I could barely get the words out of my mouth to put him down.

We picked up Rip’s body and brought him home. I wet the ground as I buried him under the pear tree beside Merlin and Squirt.