Rover

This morning I decided to take my blog down a bit of a different path. And to bring you along, let me just mention a little bit about what we did yesterday. Or maybe I need to dig a little deeper to give you the bigger picture.

As many of you know my mother was born and grew up in Germany and my father brought her back to America after spending several years over there after World War II. If you've ever been away from home during the holidays, then you know what it feels like to miss out on your family traditions. So my mother brought some of the traditions with her such as setting out our shoes for Saint Nicholas on Dec 6, and getting together around the table and singing Christmas carols in German. We try to keep those traditions alive, mainly for the sake of the joy that it brings my parents, along with the fun we have as a family. For the most part, my siblings and I would be considered to be non-bilingual people. And we're definitely not the best of singers, but we try, and we eat a lot and have fun hanging out around my parents table every Sunday night during the month of December. So you can probably imagine the fun and laughter that we have as a family, especially when the translation seems to be a bit shaky, like when we sing the German version of Jingle Bells. The German version, instead of the "one-horse open sleigh", it goes on about a wonderful sleigh ride, and the German translation for sleigh ride is schlittenfahrt. And so when we're singing that one, there's usually a lot more than just visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads.

Back to yesterday! 

Last evening wasn't any different. Of course, not everyone can make it every week, at least not on time, and so we come and go, and that can make a long evening for Dad. Last night we helped with a program at the local nursing home, trying to bring a little cheer to the people there, and so we got to my parents a little late. Our kids dropped us off (Aiyana is already driving) and they went to the gym where our church youth group was playing some games.

We sang a few songs and then Dad was feeling tired so we got him to his recliner where he could take a nap and the rest of us continued on with the chit chat.

Later, when our kids came back, they stuck their heads into the living room to say hi to grandpa, or Opa as they call him. Well they ended up staying there for a long time. When we were driving home, I asked, "What was Opa talking to you guys about for so long? I thought he would have been too tired to talk that long."

Turns out that he was telling the kids a story about his dog, Rover. I asked them which one and they said it was the one about hooking Rover up to a sled and a cat in a bag. Well I'd never heard that one before. Apparently when the kids  were telling Opa about sled riding, it sparked a memory that had been lying dormant for a while. And so this morning I gave Dad a call so that I could get the scoop.

Here's the story.

It was one of those winters when snow after snow just piled upon itself. They didn't have the modern day equipment that we have now and so the snow was just piled straight up on both sides of the road running past my dad's farm. 

My dad and his brother Roman were sled riding and like most kids they were feeling the need to make things a little more exciting. They were thinking that a dog sled might be the way to go. And with the given situation and the roads with the high snow banks on either side, wow, what perfect conditions for training a sled dog. And so they made a little harness for Rover and came up with a plan. Dad would take Rover and the sled up the road just a little bit past the driveway that led to the farm. Roman would take a feedsack that contained a disgruntled cat to the end of the driveway and at the right moment let the cat out of the bag. Roman would block the driveway and the only direction that the cat would have to run would be away from Rover and down the canyon-like road to town. Dad would get the ride of his life.

Well, when everything was ready, Uncle Roman left the cat out of the bag. And the cat took off down the road and Rover took off in hot pursuit, pulling the sled with my dad on it. The only problem that was encountered was that the cat didn't run very far at all until it decided to run up the snowbank and then up a phone pole. And that wouldn't have been a real big problem except that Rover decided to go up the pole too, but without slowing down when he left the road. And when that happened, the sled slid around and dad went sliding down the road on his belly. Thinking about the ingenuity that those two boys put into the whole ordeal was probably funnier than the actual story. And that's how it is with a lot of Dad's stories, but I always love hearing them over and over again.

As a kid, Dad would often tell lots of good stories about his dog Rover and they often included his pony, his trapline, a skunk or a possum, or maybe a coon. They were quite influential and I always thought that when I did grow up, that I would be a professional trapper. I remember in grade school, a teacher telling me that that probably wasn't an option or a good idea. I was disappointed! Even though the teacher was probably right, I believe it was these stories that influenced my love for the outdoors, and even my love for writing.

I'll try to pass more of Dad's stories on to you in the future. And though the stories may inspire you to want to become a skunk whisperer or a trapper, it will probably never happen. And if it doesn't, that's ok. 

I hope that you at least get a good chuckle and maybe a fun sleigh ride along the way!