Sunday, October 25, 2009

Animal Antics

I’ll admit that I was wrong about the leaves. This week-end all the colors of fall festooned Coker Creek. I was also wrong about the weather for the Leaf Turning Festival. What was supposed to be a beautiful day was cold, windy, and overcast. It was the closest thing to a Nor’easter that we get in the Tennessee hills. Jack and I, like many merchants, spent considerable time chasing our signage and righting our displays and tents.

There were a couple of animal adoption agencies braving the cold, one with orphan pets in tow, the other attracting people and pets. The Monroe County Animal Shelter was taking photos of pets. This prompted a lot of folks to come out, despite the weather, with their precious pooches. The other animal outfit came from Cleveland, Tennessee with several adoptable dogs, including a Great Pyrenees. Since our Gypsy Woman is a Great Pyr, and she was adopted from the Monroe County Animal Shelter, I visited with both associations, sharing tales of animal antics.

Some of the best animal stories have to do with animals that don’t act true to breed. The guy with the Great Pyrenees commented on how gentle this watch-dog breed is. He recounted a story of how a litter of puppies from another breed, after having lost their mother, had taken up residence in the eight-inch coat of this male Great Pyr . Of course, I had to allow as how our cat most often sleeps on our dog. Another fellow stopped by to tell us about his Great Pyrenees that convinced his black sheep that it was a dog so they could chase cars together. His dog is dead now, and he regrets not getting a video of that.

I told of how when my grandkids were small, Gypsy would let them ride her. And Jack loves to tell the story of how he had a pig that he’d ride when he was a little boy. Jack’s brother was always into horseback riding, but Jack preferred to walk or ride their pig. I can’t wait for him to write this as a children’s story.

Mary told me about her baby horse that spends so much time on her porch that her dogs are unable to act like the good porch pets that they are. Not only does Mary object to her horse hogging the porch so her dogs can’t lay at her feet, she’s also afraid the porch will collapse when the horse gets to be his full-grown thousand pound self. She warned me that when we come to collect our garden gold, the pony will run to greet us like a puppy. She says we’d better be prepared to stop him before he head butts us off our feet.

Between the animal antic stories and the fact that we sold a good number of books, we had a fine festival. It is true that only “an evil wind blows no good.”