A true story

Back when I was skinny, and in single digits for an age, I okay, long ago. My gramps had a hunting dog named Bridget. She was a good dog, and back then I swear she could run 100 mph. Every night when he got home he would let her run, and round and round she would go, running a track oval, tossing up dirt balls. The only time she would stop was to poop, but after that she got faster.
So being the smart grandchild, scared of nothing, still upset his red calf bucked me off. I got closer and closer to her dirt ring, with my grandpa telling me to move back. RIGHT, she's a damn dog, not a red calf. So I waited, like a tiger waiting for that limp zebra to run by, on my own 3 count in my head I jumped out to stop her head on.
That dog hit me so hard she knocked me out of my shoes and about 20 feet backwards. I never in my life though that would happen, I jumped up, started screaming, and trying to find which direction to run to the house to have my grandma protect me. In the mean time, gramps kept telling me,,,, TOLD YA SO, TOLD YA SO, and was laughing at me. That made me madder, so across the yard I ran like a drunk running from the cops, grandma meet me at the door wondering wtf just happen.
Gramps let her know, all I could get out was Bridget. And my grandma looked at me and said, bet you don't do that again.
By god, still to this day my grandpa thinks that's the funniest thing, and I try to relive the moment and have one of my kids try it, why won't they, they got my genes. But oh no, they say, you crazy?
The thing I learned is I won't ever be able to stop a train, and I can't ride a calf. That's crap!!!!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.2