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Animals Are Funny Too

By Judy T. Lloyd

People are funny and that was a show that aired in the fifties and sixties. Animals can be just as funny and the following is a small representation of the ones that I remember the most.

Cotton

Cotton was a snow white parakeet that my oldest brother brought us. The little bird could not fly because its wings were deformed.
She was an albino parakeet that loved to play. As kids we thought she was cool. Cotton loved to sit on my mother's shoulder and play with the mole on her neck. Her head would bob whenever music was playing.

Cotton developed a habit of lifting her cage door and getting out. We would reach down and offer our finger for her to get on. She obliged us by walking the ladder when we would switch fingers. Cotton loved to race back and forth on our arms chat chatting as she went. She had another habit that tickled us.

There was an old black and white cat in the house and we thought that she would try to eat Cotton. Instead the bird and the cat developed a form of play. Cotton would walk around the top of the dinner table and cat would poke her head up. Cotton would scold and the cat would drop her head and go to another corner. They played this game of Hide and Seek often. Then after they tired they would lay down next to the stove and sleep. Our neighbors thought that curious the parakeet with her head tucked underneath her wing while perched on the cats head.

Cotton looked like an old lady walking across the floor. She would go out the back door hop down and out into the yard to play with the chickens. I guess there was just something about Cotton that the chickens did not try to peck her. They must have thought well she is white like us so she must be a midget chicken. When she was through with that she would hitch a ride back into the house on the cat's back.

Cotton was the first of many birds of a feather that I became aquainted with. She was however the only one that would do the tricks she had under her wing. We all missed her the day we found her dead lying on the floor. The cat stood a vigil over her until we picked her up and placed her in a shoebox. The cat died not too long after Cotton and she was buried under the same apple tree as Cotton.

Gypsy

Gypsy was a boxer puppy when we got her. I think maybe she was taken from her mother too soon. However my mother would dip her finger in milk and let Gypsy lick the milk off. We got an eye dropper to let her nurse on as well. Gypsy was like a baby to mama. She would sit on her lap and let mama rock her to sleep.

Daddy taught that dog to say her prayers. She was so cute when she sat back on her hindquarters. She would place her paws in mama's lap and tuck her head between the front paws. Daddy would say prayer and Gpysy would not budge until she was told it was okay by mama. One reason why she was mama's baby is because the dog liked mama's lemon meringue pies. In fact mama learned to make three pies, two for family functions and a small one for Gypsy. One day the dog had discovered the pies cooling on the window sill that connected to the back porch. When mama heard a noise, she turned to see Gypsy wearing lemon meringue pie all over her muzzle.

Normally I would have thought that mama would have scolded the dog, but no mama was tickled.
From then on whenever she made something, she made sure that the dog would have a smaller selection of treats. Gypsy also liked to blow out the matches that daddy used to light his pipe. We never knew why the dog had such an adversion to smoke but she did. That was a good thing because we knew if the wood stove were to catch fire, the dog would let us know.
It is hard to ignore sixty pounds of dog in your chest.

We taught the dog many tricks and she was very intelligent. She often tracked daddy to his favorite fishing hole. She had a funny habit of looking into the water while watching the fish. The dog was strong but she was as gentle as could be. Her favorite companions were a duck and a bob tail cat. Those three were often the reason why people would stop and stare at them. However Gypsy also had an adversion to people drinking and would not let them in the house. She chased one drunk up a tree and stayed under the tree baying until my mother got her back in the house. She sternly warned the man that the dog would bite him if he tried that again.

We loved that dog to no end and she returned the love many times over.


Trigger


When I was six years old, my father came home one day with a horse in the truck bed. It was a beautiful Golden Palimino. My father had caught a man abusing the horse and took the horse from him, after paying him what he had in his wallet. We had a big farm so having a horse on it was an added treat for us.

Trigger knew from the beginning that he was loved. He was especially fond of watching us in the fields where he was allowed to roam. My mother had made a salve to heal the places where he been whipped. I think the fondness between the two was the reason why he was so gallant. One day that gallantry would save my mother's life. She was in the field next to our house milking a cow, when she was attacked by another cow. We learned later that the cow had gotten into some loco weed. Trigger immediately knew something was wrong when the cow charged mama. Racing down the hill he put himself between the cow and mama.

Mama was able to crawl under the wire, while Trigger fended off the raging cow. My oldest brother pulled mama further to the house. Her side was bleeding and so they took her to a doctor. My father and uncle had come over from another field, after Trigger had run off to get them. My uncle killed the enraged cow by shooting it. That was the only way it could have been done. Mama had to have her injury sewn up as well as resting up for about a week. Mama had that scar for the rest of her life.

My brother Joe had started giving Trigger Pepsi Colas in the bottle. It was funny to watch the horse take the bottle between his teeth and throw back his head. Joe would also sneak a Schlitz beer to him. I do not know if mama knew, but we did. Mama brought home Pepsis to give to Trigger. The horse stayed with us until we moved to another house just outside Charlotte Court House. Trigger had a home with a good family as well as other horses. I remember Trigger with fondness.

Johnny

My father bought Johnny from the livestock market in Blackstone,Virginia. He was a Border Collie with a full white mane and black body. He was the smartest dog I think that we ever had growing up as children. He was a companion to Trigger the horse and other animals. He could bring a cow down quicker than a rope would. He would be gentle to the cow or calf whatever came his way to be herded.

Johnny had a favorite pastime and that was to hunt snakes. If there was a snake around the farm, it did not stay there long. Johnny would grab the snake in a death hold and shake it until the neck snapped. Once I was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair. Johnny came up to me barking furiously. I had not seen the big copperhead on the oak tree. Johnny took my hand and nudged me back into the house. Sensing that he could not get to the snake he alerted mama who got the shotgun.

There is one thing in the country that we all learn to do and that is shoot. My mother shot the snake and Johnny was satisfied that the critter was dead. He dug his heels in the dirt and kicked it up signaling that he was proud of his deed. Johnny even tolerated cats which was unusual, however that was the gentle side in him. Johnny would sit with us while we were playing in the sandbox. He liked to ride in the truck. Many times he hitched a ride with daddy to go down to the creek where we drew water for the tobacco crops.

The year following my brother's death in a car accident my parents got a new Ford car. The car was a royal blue with four doors. Of course we had to get in the car and pretend we were driving. I am not sure which one of the kids knocked it out of gear, I just know it wasn't me. The car started rolling and went past a sleeping Johnny and down the hill. The countryside would be described as rolling hills. The car rolled back and forth like a seesaw until it finally stopped. Johnny was hiding behind the oak tree because it had scared him. Trigger was neighing at the car until daddy got the car started and drove it back up the hill. There was a scratch where the barbed wire had scrapped against the paint. The car none the worse for wear became the source of the stories about our family for years.

Johnny was hiding because mama said he did not want to tell on whoever had put the car in motion. We moved to a home close to the road where Johnny continued his snake killing. One day we noticed that several cars had stopped alongside the highway. People were watching Johnny kill snakes. They wanted to know if we would rent him to them to get rid of snakes on their property. We thought that funny because Johnny was a real working dog.

Ringo


Ringo is the dog on the cover of this book. Ringo was a dog that I found at the flea market in Farmville a year after we got Bear his best buddy. My dog

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