Hard Choices

I'm pretty sure that most of you have seen or heard of the 1957 movie "Old Yeller" staring Fess Parker of Daniel Boone fame.  I think I was around 11 when I first saw it, but when I did, it was like a painful reliving of what happened one summer in Lando Mines.

Now with that introduction, you know this can't have a good ending...and you're right.  But it did teach me something very important about life, and my dad.

When I was about two, I got a brand new suit to wear to church.  My mom called it a suit, but it was really shorts, a jacket, and a nice bow tie. I thought I was pretty hot stuff, and you can see from my picture that I was looking sharp.  I don't remember much about church at that age, except that when everyone stood up to sing a hymn, I suddenly felt like I was in a forest of towering, singing, giant trees.  For some reason, it scared me, and even though my mom let me stand up in the seat of my pew, it didn't help much.  I can remember wanting her to hold me, but knowing that would be acting like a baby.  And I knew that babies didn't get to wear grown-up suits to church like me.  So, I'd just look at the floor until they were done, and then I would heave a sigh of relief and sit down again too.

Hank in his Sunday best at Lando Mines

But this story isn't so much about church as about our dog.  We had a mongrel, brownish yellow dog that I loved dearly.  Her name was Missy, and she was our first dog...or at least the first dog we had that I could remember.  Dad got her from a neighbor who was moving away, and she came with her name.  She was big, compared to me, and yet gentle enough.  She loved to play fetch, and I'd throw sticks and an old rubber ball for her and she'd always bring it back and drop it at my feet.  She seemed to understand that I was just a little kid, and so had great patience for the throws that sometimes went flying in an entirely different direction than either of us had hoped.  Once I hauled off and threw the ball really hard, only to have it hit her in the rear end as she waited for me.  She looked back at me with an odd expression - a mix of patience, pity and love.  She turned and picked up the ball and dropped it at my feet so I could throw it again.

We played a lot together, but she was an outside dog and never allowed in our house.  Dad really liked her too, and clearly had a very soft spot in his heart for her.  She'd greet him happily every day when he'd come home from working down at the mines, and wag her tail like crazy.  I learned quickly to move aside, and also never be directly behind her when she got happy, because that big wagging tail of hers dumped me onto my own behind a couple of times.

I remember clearly the first time I realized something was wrong.  Missy had a water bowl outside by our little shed, and when it was empty, I'd ask mom to get her some more water.  She was always thirsty, and drank lot's of water.  It was warm weather, and even I was hot outside.  I checked her water bowl and it was full.  Not that unusual, but a bit odd.  I looked again later, and it was still full.  Missy was sitting over in the shade of a tree, and panting....looking hot and uncomfortable.  As I approached her she gave me a strange look, but didn't move.  Something stopped me...just a funny feeling.  I went to her water bowl, and thinking to get her to take a drink and cool off, I lifted it up, and walked unsteadily towards her.  As I got near, I slopped some water on the ground, and she jumped up and moved away from quickly.  As I moved towards her again, she moved away again too.  I couldn't figure it out, so just put the bowl back where it belonged and forgot about it.

Over the next couple of days, Missy also pretty much stopped playing with me, and mostly just lay in the shade panting.  She also stopped greeting my dad in the evenings, and so when he came home I could see him talking to her and looking concerned.  She was clearly uneasy with him petting her, but she let him do it anyway.  The next day was the first time I saw her with the gray foam around her lips.  She had a funny look in her eyes too, like she didn't know me anymore.  I just didn't see my good old Missy in her eyes anymore, and I started to get a bit scared of her, and kept away.

By Saturday, things were much worse.  She lay on her side a lot now, and the foam and heavy breathing was worse.  Whenever we'd move in her direction, she would lift her head and growl at us.  She even growled at dad, and when he kept coming she got up, and snarled at him in a very wild and scary way.  The ridge of fur down the middle of her back was up, and her lips pulled back away from her teeth.  Dad yelled at me to get in the house, and so I ran up the steps and waited on the porch.   Dad went to our little shed, and opened the door.  He pulled out the yard rake, and turned back to Missy.  She was still on guard, and looked ready to attack anyone or anything.  Dad eased around to her side, and she turned to face him.  He slowly moved towards her holding the rake in front of him.  She darted forward, snapped at it and then backed up.

Dad kept moving in and backing her up, until it was obvious what he was doing.  He was trying to get her into the shed.   At one point, she just turned and ran inside the shed by herself...then turned at the door to defend her territory. Dad moved quickly now...holding the rake with one hand, and then grabbing the door and slamming it closed with the other hand.  Misty immediately went berserk, and I could hear her snarling and throwing herself against the door.  Dad's hand shook as he latched the door hook, and then he jammed the rake against the door as added protection.  He turned to look at me, and his face was white.  He said "I thought I told you to get in the house!", but I could tell he wasn't angry...just really upset.

That night after dinner, I could hear mom and dad talking quietly.  Dad's voice was sad, and mom's was too.  I heard her ask at one point "What are you going to do Kell?"  My dad's name was Henry, but he didn't like it much either.  We both have the middle name of Caleb, and the short version is Cal.  If you say that with a West Virginia drawl, you'll get something very much like Kell.  I couldn't hear clearly what dad said back to her, but when she asked again, he just said "I don't know." in a very forlorn voice.

So, the next morning we got up early and I got dressed in my new suit.  My mom was acting all funny.  Pretending like she was excited and happy to be going to church, but somehow we knew she wasn't.  We all  knew something was really wrong, and so did our best to behave and not be any trouble.  Mom got me dressed up first, and I wandered back to my mom and dad's bedroom while mom set about getting Ingrid ready.  I didn't make much noise, and so caught my dad by surprise.  He was sitting on their bed and had his hunting rifle out.  He was wiping down the barrel, and deep in thought.  He realized that I was there, and his head whipped up.  I could see the misery in his eyes, before he turned away again, and told me to go back to mom.

As we went down the steps and into the yard on our way out, I looked at the shed.  The rake was still jammed against the door, but there was no sound from inside.  I was so worried about Missy, and so started to walk in that direction.  As I got close to the door, all hell broke lose.  I've never heard a dog go so crazy wild as she did.  She was growling, snarling and barking in a total frenzy.  She was slamming herself against the door again, and this time the whole shed shook.  My mom yelled at me to get away, and grabbed my arm and snatched me back.  She looked back at dad standing up on the porch, and he just shook his head slowly.  We left in a hurry after that, and dad stayed on the porch watching us go.

After the usual boring and hot session in church, we came home.  I noticed right away that the shed door was partially open...and the rake was on the ground.  Nobody was in sight...neither dad or Missy.  I started to run to look in the shed, but mom told me to get in the house and change my clothes.  It was silent and dark in the house.

After I changed, I went outside looking for dad and Missy.  I didn't find either one, so went around back.  As I came around the side of the house, I could see my dad coming towards our back fence across the field.  There as a bit of an open area there, then a small stream and all trees on the other side.  Dad was carrying a shovel, and walking like he was as old as my grandfather.  He was dusty and dirty, and I could see white lines running down his face.  As he got closer, I could see that he'd been crying and that the tears had washed little tracks down his cheeks.  He didn't see me yet, and I was totally confused.  I'd never seen my dad cry, and it had never occurred to me that grownups even knew how to cry.

My heart jumped, and I knew something really bad had happened.  Now dad saw me, and swiped his sleeve across his face.  He tried to put on a smile, but just couldn't do it.  As he came up to me, he picked me up in his free arm and carried me back to the house.  I didn't know anything about death then, and don't think I'd ever even heard the word.  But somehow I knew that Missy was gone...where I didn't know...but gone for sure and gone for good.  I asked dad quietly "Where's our dog?".  Dad looked at me and then away again.  He didn't say anything for a bit, and then still looking away...said "She's gone to heaven son" in a tight, strained voice.

I hadn't paid much attention to what went on in church, but I knew they had talked about a place called heaven.  From what I could understand, it sounded like it was a nice place...maybe even as nice as Lando Mines.  So, I asked dad..."What's she doing there?".  And this time he spoke easier.  He said "Shes doing everything she loves best son."  I knew he believed what he said, and also knew he didn't want me to ask any more questions.  So, I gave him a hug around his neck, and he hugged me back and then put me on the back porch and patted me on the head.  He disappeared around the house to put the shovel back in the shed, and we never talked about Missy again for a very long time.  However, I put the whole memory into that "mystery unsolved" storage box kids keep in their brain.

After I saw the movie "Old Yeller" I finally put two and two together, and realized that Missy had gotten rabies.  All the memories of the week, and that awful Sunday came flooding back, and I cried hard.  I finally understood just what my dad had done that day, and why he cried too.  Dad was faced with an awful situation, and he could have made a lot of different choices.  He did what he did out of love for us and for Missy too.

So, dad...this one is for you.  For all the times you did the hard things, but right things in your life...I thank you with all my heart.  I don't know if I believe in heaven, but I do know you are in a much better place.  I sure do miss you dad, and love you too.  Here's to you and Missy doing everything you love best wherever you are.

Lesson Learned:  The measure of a good person is having the sense to know what's right, and the strength and courage to do it....even when it can be the hardest thing in the world.