itsmecindi
Gold Member
I hope I don't get in trouble for this. It doesn't have to do with tractors but it does have to do with rural living... I think.
I don't know what it is that's so attractive about getting in the truck and driving around in the dark half the night, but my kids love to do it. Alone, with me or Fred, or in little teenage bunches, it doesn't matter. I have to admit, I'm a little partial to the activity myself, but kind of got out of the habit over the years.
There's something about driving around in the dark on back country roads, about twenty miles an hour that gets my blood going. You never know what you're going to see. The city zoo doesn't have anything on a dark quiet country road, if you don't mind the late hours.
Jill had a friend spend the night Saturday night. She's a city girl, born and raised. We don't see much of her as she says it's 'boring' out here. We decided about midnight to go for a ride.
I was driving, the girls were in the back with Elvis, our rickety old mutt. Typically we drive down all the dirt roads until we get to the cemetary, and then we park. This graveyard is smack in the middle of a dozen orange groves and once you turn out the headlights and shut off the engine, the only sounds are that of the night creatures and your own breathing.
Once we got there I shut the truck down and got out and walked around to the back and shushed the girls. They had been giggling. Now all I could hear was Elvis's toenails ticking around on the floor of the truck bed.
"Elvis. Sit!" I whispered, and he did.
Then we heard it. At first it didn't register. I'm so used to the sound that it took a minute to dawn on me that I wasn't standing at the house near our hog pasture.
"Grunt....grunt....grunt..."
From the sounds of it, there was a bunch of them, and they did not appear to know that we were nearby. The road is made of hard pan I guess you call it, so it was bright white in the moonlight and I squinted and finally made out about six or eight dark spots standing out in contrast to the road material.
"Hog." I whispered. "See 'em?"
Karli, our visitor, sucked in her breath sharply. She's scared to death of domestic hogs, much less wild ones.
Jill knew not to look for a 'hog proper' but to use her ears and her instincts and she found them immediatley.
"Let's get 'em." She whispered, the whites of her eyes shining in the darkness.
"What the...what do you mean 'get 'em'? We don't have any hog dogs, no dog box, nothing. What would we do with them if we did get 'em?'
"I...I don't want to get them." This from Karli.
"Don't worry." I said. "We're not going to get 'em but we are going to try and get a little closer to them."
"Oh crud." This again from Karli.
Naturally by the time I got the truck started and moving the hogs had begun to scatter and by the time we got to the point where they were, I saw the last one disappear into some orange trees.
That's when old Elvis surprised me. All of a sudden he went..
"Wooo----woooooof!!" and over the tailgate he went. He was gone so fast that I didn't even see where he went.
"Oh CRUD!" Karli yelled. "What do we do now?"
"Well... we get him back."
"How long will that take?"
She ws clearly nervous in the dark in the middle of nowhere in the midlle of hogs.
"We'll have to see."
Jill got out of the truck yelling..
"Elivs GET your butt back in this truck, NOW!"
That usually works.
Nothing. No sound. No hogs, no Elvis, just the motor running.
He was gone about ten minutes I guess. Ten very long minutes for Karli. When he burst out of the grove and sailed up into the front seat of the truck she was positivley giddy with releif.
"Oh thank GOD! Can we go now?"
I climbed in beisde Elvis, he was panting so hard and so fast that I didn't think he'd ever catch his breath. I eased the truck up to about thirty miles an hour, mindful of Karli's need to get back to a lighted area.
"Are you DUMB? What were you thinking chasing those hogs? " I growled at him and he hung his head.
"Well, did you catch em"?" I asked. He swung his head around, tongue bobbing wildy in and out as he tried to get some air, and pasted these huge excited eyes on me.
"Was it scary?"
He just whined.
"Did you have fun?"
He gave me a big wet slobbery kiss on my chin and whined some more.
"I don't know what you were thinking, you never chased a hog in your life."
He just stared straight ahead and had no comment.
How could I get mad at him. I don't think he had any control over his sudden need to get up close and personal with those wild hogs. But I made a mental note to keep him at home next time we go out on our ride, or at the very least tied up in the truck so he can't take off. Regardless of what he might think, he is old and he is rickety, and if he came up against a big boar he would loose, and I'm not prepared to risk it.
Aside from the fact that he has never been on a hog hunt, and wouldn't know what to do with a hog if he caught one, he rattles when he walks and can't run for longer than about sixty seconds before he starts to sound like he's breathing water. I have to hand it to him though, he does have the heart for it, even if he doesn't have any sense.
I don't know what it is that's so attractive about getting in the truck and driving around in the dark half the night, but my kids love to do it. Alone, with me or Fred, or in little teenage bunches, it doesn't matter. I have to admit, I'm a little partial to the activity myself, but kind of got out of the habit over the years.
There's something about driving around in the dark on back country roads, about twenty miles an hour that gets my blood going. You never know what you're going to see. The city zoo doesn't have anything on a dark quiet country road, if you don't mind the late hours.
Jill had a friend spend the night Saturday night. She's a city girl, born and raised. We don't see much of her as she says it's 'boring' out here. We decided about midnight to go for a ride.
I was driving, the girls were in the back with Elvis, our rickety old mutt. Typically we drive down all the dirt roads until we get to the cemetary, and then we park. This graveyard is smack in the middle of a dozen orange groves and once you turn out the headlights and shut off the engine, the only sounds are that of the night creatures and your own breathing.
Once we got there I shut the truck down and got out and walked around to the back and shushed the girls. They had been giggling. Now all I could hear was Elvis's toenails ticking around on the floor of the truck bed.
"Elvis. Sit!" I whispered, and he did.
Then we heard it. At first it didn't register. I'm so used to the sound that it took a minute to dawn on me that I wasn't standing at the house near our hog pasture.
"Grunt....grunt....grunt..."
From the sounds of it, there was a bunch of them, and they did not appear to know that we were nearby. The road is made of hard pan I guess you call it, so it was bright white in the moonlight and I squinted and finally made out about six or eight dark spots standing out in contrast to the road material.
"Hog." I whispered. "See 'em?"
Karli, our visitor, sucked in her breath sharply. She's scared to death of domestic hogs, much less wild ones.
Jill knew not to look for a 'hog proper' but to use her ears and her instincts and she found them immediatley.
"Let's get 'em." She whispered, the whites of her eyes shining in the darkness.
"What the...what do you mean 'get 'em'? We don't have any hog dogs, no dog box, nothing. What would we do with them if we did get 'em?'
"I...I don't want to get them." This from Karli.
"Don't worry." I said. "We're not going to get 'em but we are going to try and get a little closer to them."
"Oh crud." This again from Karli.
Naturally by the time I got the truck started and moving the hogs had begun to scatter and by the time we got to the point where they were, I saw the last one disappear into some orange trees.
That's when old Elvis surprised me. All of a sudden he went..
"Wooo----woooooof!!" and over the tailgate he went. He was gone so fast that I didn't even see where he went.
"Oh CRUD!" Karli yelled. "What do we do now?"
"Well... we get him back."
"How long will that take?"
She ws clearly nervous in the dark in the middle of nowhere in the midlle of hogs.
"We'll have to see."
Jill got out of the truck yelling..
"Elivs GET your butt back in this truck, NOW!"
That usually works.
Nothing. No sound. No hogs, no Elvis, just the motor running.
He was gone about ten minutes I guess. Ten very long minutes for Karli. When he burst out of the grove and sailed up into the front seat of the truck she was positivley giddy with releif.
"Oh thank GOD! Can we go now?"
I climbed in beisde Elvis, he was panting so hard and so fast that I didn't think he'd ever catch his breath. I eased the truck up to about thirty miles an hour, mindful of Karli's need to get back to a lighted area.
"Are you DUMB? What were you thinking chasing those hogs? " I growled at him and he hung his head.
"Well, did you catch em"?" I asked. He swung his head around, tongue bobbing wildy in and out as he tried to get some air, and pasted these huge excited eyes on me.
"Was it scary?"
He just whined.
"Did you have fun?"
He gave me a big wet slobbery kiss on my chin and whined some more.
"I don't know what you were thinking, you never chased a hog in your life."
He just stared straight ahead and had no comment.
How could I get mad at him. I don't think he had any control over his sudden need to get up close and personal with those wild hogs. But I made a mental note to keep him at home next time we go out on our ride, or at the very least tied up in the truck so he can't take off. Regardless of what he might think, he is old and he is rickety, and if he came up against a big boar he would loose, and I'm not prepared to risk it.
Aside from the fact that he has never been on a hog hunt, and wouldn't know what to do with a hog if he caught one, he rattles when he walks and can't run for longer than about sixty seconds before he starts to sound like he's breathing water. I have to hand it to him though, he does have the heart for it, even if he doesn't have any sense.
