2 comments/  14686 views/  0 favorites

Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 01

By: My Erotic Tail



Numchucks, The Legend

(A true story of a Black Labrador Retriever)

Introduction: 

Old Yeller, Benji, Rin Tin Tin, Lassie, Beatoven, Snoopy and so many other Dogs noted from television and movies are famous. But the real heroes are the rescue Dogs that go into a burning fire and retrieve someone from its flames or notify the proper fire and rescue personal that someone is still trapped inside and where. Or the seeing eye dog that has a daily duty of being someone's eyes. The winner's of championships after championships in field trials, show, obedience and Best in breed. 

Dogs are used to sniff out explosives that ultimately saves lives. The Military and police use such dogs in many ways. Trackers for searching out lost people or children in a forest or wilderness. Guard dogs that are gently as a lamb till given the command, one word...that sets them into an action that they're trained for.

Many of they're accomplishments are only noted in a local news paper article or maybe even a book that has a minimal publication. They may not get the publicity that show dogs have. But legendary heroes just the same.

A Legend is a person, place or thing that's achievements are worthy of inspiring such a story that it's tale is told for many years. Thus we speak of the legendary accomplishments of those who built our community and forged they're way across a wilderness of the unknown to tame the land in which we live. Local heroes and folklore of some wild and outlandish deed told over a cup of coffee in a local cafe or diner again and again. Printed in publications or journals marking their accomplishments in history.

Legendary names still mark they're presence here in East Texas: Davey Crockett National forest at Crockett, Texas. Jim Bowie and his legendary "Bear" hunts with his legendary, "Bowie Knife." Sam Houston of Huntsville, Texas. Out numbered by Santa Anna, Houston led Santa Anna's army into the swamps at Buffalo Bayou and the San Jacinto River. Within a short time, 700 Mexicans were slain, with another 730 taken as prisoners. 910 Texans won the Independence for Texas. Yelling those Legendary words, "Remember the Alamo." which is about 250 miles southwest from where we lived.

Riverside Texas, a little town that was a one store town with a Post Office for many years. The Trinity River which in its day (Early 1900s) hauled timber and cotton by barge up and down the river. Meeting with trains to transport lumber, which the trains still run through town, rarely ever stopping. The train track Bridge that swiveled back and forth to allow taller barges through still stands over the river. But as the need for barges dwindled and modern transport eliminated the need for trains to truck off lumber, the town reached an all time high Population of 450 people. Which seems to make us out numbered by deer and varmints about 50 to one. 

East Texas is known for many things. It's tall piney woods, meadows and prairies, rivers that once carried steam ships and barges north and south towards the gulf. Bordering Louisiana this area of Texas blends the traditional cowboy/country with a swampy Cajun atmosphere. From Indian tales to Cowboy trails to a country ambiance. With only powerlines, highways and cars to remind us we're in the 21st century. 

Which inturn opens up rivers and creeks offering some of the finest Migratory bird hunting anywhere. Katy, Texas and Annuac are known for their wintering waterfowl that blanket the sky like a cloud. Or turn a field white with snow geese every where in an open farm field or pasture. The flyway for the annual migration of Birds is repetitious. So the farmers help to ward off the devastating passer bye's by offering hunting rights on their property for lease.

And these hunters get down right serious. Vehicles tricked out in camouflage and boats that are built to be duck blinds as well as expensive Air boats. The best equipment of duck and goose calls. Champion callers that get into the Art of "Calling" birds of all kinds. Shooters that practice year round in trap and skeet tournaments. Shotgun sized to fit and recoil advancement has gone to an all time reduction. Some of these shotguns cost as much as a new car. Outfitter stores and sites are numerous filled with the latest in Hunting technology as well as some down right famous products. With Brand names that have been around for years.

And the Retriever...

Any one who has hunted with a Trained or good Retriever will tell you that their asset is unmatched. The boggy swamp bottom in this region is the hardest stuff in the world to walk in...in my book. Not to mention that retrievers are faster and their ability to swim is incredible. This makes them invaluable since waterfowl hunting is mostly aquatic. Just sit back and wait for the retriever to retrieve and watch for more birds.

The competition for Retrievers is very intense to say the least. Competitions of all kinds are available for canines. Obstacle courses, K-9 police competition to see which dogs perform the best in all kinds of situations. Circus's have always relished in training comical stunts and tricks with an array of breeds and animals. Trainers and owners all Train year round to achieve the goal of the best Dog of a contest, regional trials, or competition. Striving for perfection in man and canine communication and commands. Many breeds of dog have shown they're ability and won these trials.

But the Black Lab has won so many hearts and named the Number one favorite American breed. They are very intelligent and gentle with the desire to please. Weathered for the cold and loves the water. It is said they're used to retrieve tools and supplies for ship builders long before they're usefulness of game retrieval was noticed. Easily trained to retrieve and generally not gun shy, matter fact they get just as excited if not more so, about going on a hunt or into the great outdoors. 

So here we are in Riverside Texas, on the banks of the Trinity River. A major fly way to this winter hot spot for Migratory birds. And hunting season was only days away. I was going to unknowingly embark on a friendship...of a life time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One (Opening Day)

Shoreline Drive, Riverside Texas~~

I was filling my coffee mug with water gazing out the kitchen window at the river. A cove off the rivers edge. The cloud cover cast a gray hue on the water, it had been like that for days. The tiny Island that sits off the middle of "Turtle" cove was plush green. Turning the faucet off I stepped towards the microwave. Put a tea bag in the cup and shut the Microwave's door and pushed the button to start.

"Morning, how you feeling?" 

I turned and Gwen was sitting on the sofa. My sister. I had been ill with the same problem that I had had for years. Gasritous, Pancreatitis, Ulcer, and many other diagnosis but the root of the pain was stomach aches. I would go through spells and I had been having one for the past few days. "Well...okay I guess." I answered.

Gwen was curled up with a colorful afghan watching a talk show on the t.v. Her strawberry blonde hair and few freckles added to her country charm accent. Her head sunk into her hand smiling as she giggled at the television show. 

The "beep" of the microwave had me turn back around and I'm not real sure what happen there. I woke up on the floor with a sharp pain in my lower right stomach. I was doubled over holding my tummy as if that was really gonna make it better, but its instinctive. 

"Are you all right? Where does it hurt?" Gwen was questioning me as to what was wrong. She had LVN training and was trying to figure out why I had passed out.

"My stomach hurts bad," I said. I knew something wasn't right. I had pancreatitis and this wasn't in that area of the stomach. But I knew I had reached a point of pain tolerance that was in need of medical attention. Gwen was calling my brother (Alan) and he was on his way to the house.

"Alan's just around the corner, he'll be here in a minute," Gwen said in an excited tone. She was calm as could be but still anxious as to why I fell on the floor. I got to my feet, I was still in my robe from just waking up and limped to the bedroom and got dressed.

Alan came screeching up and I could hear Gwen telling him what had happen. Alan come in and helped me to the truck and we headed to the hospital. Gwen, sitting in the middle, said I had fever and Alan began asking the same questions again. "What happen?"  

"Where's Numchucks?" I asked as we headed down the street.

"Oh he's fine, were worried about you." Gwen said reassuring.

"He ain't going no where." Alan said pulling away from the house. 

I was looking for my dog in the rear view window. Just then the long legged lanky puppy ran to the middle of the road in our secluded subdivision. His black coat stood out against the green grass. His tail wagging but his ears back showing his uncertainty. He jotted down the driveway to the garage. I knew he was all right and I felt better.

Huntsville Memorial Hospital Huntsville Texas~~

"How do you feel?" The Doctor asked as he entered the room with his nose buried in a clip board.

"Hurts like hell Doc," I replied.

"Well, its going to for a couple weeks. The appendix was removed with no complications, only 14 stitches and we'll prescribed you something to minimize the pain." The Doctor pulled the sheet back and inspected the bandage. We'll keep you till tomorrow, if you'll walk down the hall tomorrow, then I'll release you." He smiled.

"Yeah right, the HALL? I couldn't see me walking to the window much less the hall," I spat.

"Ok the bathroom, you'll need to be able to go to the bathroom at home so you show me you can walk to the bathroom and I'll release you." The Doctor put the sheet back over me. Smiled and checked the IV.

"Okay, your the Doc."

"You'll need to remain in bed at home for two weeks till that incision heels. Then come to my office, make an appointment and I'll remove the stitches then." The Doctor began to turn and leave.

"Ooh! Doc...In two days, Duck hunting season begins. I have been planning for this day all year. Been training a Lab I got for my birthday from my mother and brother and his wife. I gotta go Saturday." It was a hard thing to swallow not being able to go out and hunt, opening day. To some of us it was like Christmas.

"I definitely advise against it." The Doctor blurted as he began to escape out the door. "You need to let those stitches do their job and keep that incision closed. Any wrong move and it could rupture and bleed again and infection could set in. No...I advise against it." The Doctor said firmly.

"Doc...I haven't missed opening day of duck hunting in years and I'm not gonna let this be the first." I was serious now. 

It was starting to appear that I wasn't hunting this years opening day. My Mother sitting next to me smiled. She new I was a die hard Duck Hunter. Matter fact she say's she bought Numchucks for me because I always went hunting alone. I always invited people to go with me but way to many times no one was around, so I went by my self and thought nothing of it. She figured if the dog come back and I didn't then she would send the rescue squad. And being an EMS and driving the ambulance she had access to a full out search and rescue. I had only had boat trouble a couple times but the stories that circulate are horror tales of 14 foot alligators and boats sinking from stumps only inches below the water line. Stepping into a nest of Cotton mouths. She said she felt safer knowing "Numchucks" was with me. 

"Ok, if you go out there with others and don't move around and do all you cannot to pull those stitches. If it begins to bleed...make an appointment to see me. If not, I'll see you in two weeks and good luck." The Doctor said smiling as he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trinity River~~

"Opening Day"

The slapping of water against the boat as the motor idled was the only sounds heard. The fog was so thick that I had to squint to see my hunting partner, Happy, the only one crazy enough to go out on such a cold late October morning in such short notice. The weather had been bad all week and this morning wasn't looking any better.

"Veer right," I was guiding Happy (yes, his name is Happy) out of the cove. The last pier's lights illuminated like a light house as we turned into the river off the point. And Like so many Hunts to come "Numchucks" was at the bow of the aluminum john boat with his nose forward like the old ships that have a lady poised out and protruding from its ships bow.

His tail was wagging with anticipation. Starring into the fog like he could see right through it. His puppy frame of long legs and massive paws matched his big box head. It was like his body was having trouble growing as fast as his head. He turned and looked at me and his tail wagged even faster as he looked down and saw the shotgun case. Turned his nose back into the fog and stared.

We had come out on the Islands a lot the last three weeks. Scouting for hot spots and taking advantage of the dove that flew onto the islands during dove season. The trial and error time for Numchuck's retriever training. Only having him for a short time before season made me feel a bit unsure of his performance. But his dove retrievals was comical to say the least. Man chasing dog through mud and muck yelling, "Don't eat the bird."

I worked with him every day, Retriever training. My uncle had an old book, Training retrievers, that I read backwards and forwards, probably in that order. But I took him out and hunted a squirrel and shot it on the edge of the yard. The little varmints would taunt and tease and get Numchucks to chase them like it was a game of "You can't catch me." Running from tree to tree with chatters and laughs as Numchucks bounced back and forth from trunk to trunk unable to keep up with them.

I led Chucks to the squirrel, he instinctively picked it up and snooped at it. I placed it in his mouth and walked him back to where I had shot. I took the tail and made a decoy from it. I tossed it every day and hid it and gave commands and my brother would lead Chucks at the command. It didn't take him long to catch on and the rewards especially interested him. Some may call it bribery, I call incentive. Anything from M&Ms to potato chips.

He showed signs of intelligence right off. With in days he was finding the tail with only minimal direction signs and scent as I hid it in harder places to find. But he soon caught on to the commands and directions I gave to aid him in his search. The Island Dove hunts not only offered game but I also used the feathers to make more decoys with sharper protrudes to insure his becoming soft mouthed (Teaches him not to bite down on the bird). Living on the river also offered water to toss the decoys into which was Numchuck's favorite, swimming.

"Hey you awake up there?" Happy yelled over the humming of the 25 horse power motor. "Which way?"

I looked down into the water which was the only thing you could see in the fog. The Hydrilla (Floating water foliage) was flowing from the bow (front) of the boat to the back. "We're going up river, we need to go right." Happy turned the boat slowly to the right. Numchucks was still on point and it was still to foggy to see. The small green John boat made its way slowly into the dark gray void.

"Slow down, we should be coming up on the logs." I yelled back at Happy. Happy lived up to his name. He was a robust country gentleman that was camping in a tent with his wife on his property. Clearing it and vacationing for an indefinite time. He graciously agreed to drive the boat and assist me on this Opening Day. He wasn't hunting, he wasn't a hunter. He was just being a friend and going so that I could go. His constant laughter always made it a pleasure being around him. He had such a kind nature that a heard of ten deer or better bed down nightly next to his tent. Well practically. Within twenty yards some nights. 

Its awesome to sit at his camp site and watch the fire dwindle and the eyes of ten deer sink into the grass less than fifty yards from you. Looks like a bunch of stationary fire flies in a small patch of grass under some liveoak trees. His loud barrel laugh didn't startle them at all, in fact they seem to want to come closer to see what was so humorous.

"There's the logs." I yelled as I saw the dark shape of a log jam ahead. All along the edge of the river is a build up of trees and logs that have built up a tangled timber line. "Stump," I pointed to the first stump I saw and pointed at it with the spotlight (flash light). "Stump," I yelled again and shined the light on another hazardous stump.

"Which way?" Happy yelled back.

"Uh...left," It was anybody's guess. I was looking for a cut through the log jam that opened up a passage into the open waters of Robs Lake. But the fog had us doing the guessing game and if you follow the log jam long enough you'd find an opening. But it was a maze of cuts and waterways around the islands that the river encircled daily.

"There," I shined the light to an opening that offered us a way out of the rivers current.

"I see it," Happy replied and he swung the boat around to enter the cut. The sky was turning a light gray and two teal whistled by over our heads. "What was that?"

"Teal. Green wings, dang we're running a bit late." I said excitedly. Numchucks stood up and his tail was wagging. He looked at me and down at the shot gun still in its case then sat back down. Or maybe I told him to but he was back to pointing his nose into the fog as we made our way up into the cut. The darkness slowly, slowly trickles to light as we inched into the shallow waterway churning mud with the propeller. Which isn't a bad thing till you hit a stump and then say your prayers. 

"Left here Happy," I shouted as we approached a "Y" in the cut. He turned the boat in a small waterway with the boat barely at an Idle. Dodging stumps and drift logs all around. The sky above our heads was gray while the trees and shrubs and grasses all around us were still black as shadows.

Numchucks jumped to his feet and his head was gazing left. His tail went to wagging. I knew right then I needed to do something about the black flag that he waved but his head turned to the right slowly as he watched two teal land in the water before us. He went to spring forward but the rope he was tied to soon made him aware that he wasn't going anyplace. A lesson I learned during the comical retriever training courses when we hunted dove. His spring into action was soon eliminated.

He barked and the teal took flight into the disappearing fog. "No Numchucks, no barking." Numchucks knew what "No" meant but why I was saying it I don't really think he knew. But his head turned back and looked at me with those soft puppy eyes and soon I was reassuring him with kind words and encouragement and his tail was wagging again. "You ready... Chucks?"

"There Happy, did you see where those Teal landed?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. Pulling his collar up around his ears on his green flannel shirt. I was decked out with 2 jackets and two shirts. But Happy was one of those who wore a heavy flannel shirt at the most in a blizzard.

"That's where we'll hunt," It was getting light and we hadn't put decoys out yet and the birds were flying. I reached forward and pulled the decoy bag to me to start putting them out when I was reminded of my surgery. The pain was sharp and I wasn't taking my med.'s yet because I was going to be operating a shot gun I didn't want to be foolish. 

Happy put the boat to shore and killed the motor (turned it off) Hopped out of the boat and began tossing decoys out. I readied the shot gun and got Numchucks to lay down at my feet on the John boats floor. I tied the ammo bag to his tail to weigh it down from wagging in the air, a sign to the birds "Here we are."


Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 01



A sunrise through the thicket on the river is a kaleidoscope of beautiful moments only matched by the bouquet of colors that mark the suns filtered disappearance at dusk. The blue sky above showed that the fog was thinning as more and more of the river was becoming visible. We were no where near where I wanted to be. But we were set up. Happy climbed back in the boat and snuggled down low. I offered him a cup of hot coffee and we saluted the beginning of the morning.

"There," Happy's hand went to air and Numchucks tried to jump up. I pulled the shotgun to my shoulder and aimed only to find that the bird was low and flying around to my far right. As I turned I felt the pull of my stitches and I lowered the gun.

"You okay?" Happy asked.

"Yeah, I'm just not going to be able to make some of those shots to my right, I guess. Numchucks whimpered and I looked to see what had his interest. It was a Mud Hen (Coot) that had made its fancy with some of the decoys. Paddling around the decoys waiting for an exceptance chatter. The solid black hen had bright white on it's nose that made it easy to see.

"You gonna shoot'em?" Happy asked after a few minutes of watching.

"No, it's a live decoy." I said laughing. Coots were plentiful and not the primary target. But a moving addition to our decoy spread. The excitement mounted as two teal shot over the decoys and kept flying at their fast pace speed. "Stay down, they'll be back. They're just checking things out, they'll circle around." About that time we heard shots fired not to far from us. Probably another cut down river. They obviously saw the teal too.

"We ain't alone, Kimo'savy," Happy said laughing.

One lone teal came in with cupped wings to set in the decoys. Its legs dropped down and wings arched to drag the wind. With total instinct and no thought to my wound, I raised the shotgun and sighted the bird and waited till it slowed up just before landing and fired. 

"You got 'em." Happy shouted. Numchucks bolted against the rope and began wagging his freed tail. I unlatched his lease and away he sprang. Into the water with a splash and towards the downed teal he went. The cut was shallow enough that his legs barely touched bottom and he half paddled and half walked over to the teal and sniffed at it and went onward, past it.

"Hey," I whistled the command to go towards the downed bird but he went off to the other bank, walked up to a tree shaking the water off his back and took the liberty of lifting his leg and relieved himself. I was already out of the boat and walking across the cut angrily yet understanding, when Numchucks ran back to the bird, we reached the teal about the same time. I picked up the bird and put it in his mouth and guided him back to where I had shot, just as I had done for the last three weeks in training. 

I was winded and tired and hurting now. I settled into the boat dripping wet and stowed the teal and pointed for Numchucks to lay down again. He did a wet dog shake and looked up at me with a very serious look in his eyes. I looked back at him very stern and serious. I picked up the teal and put it to his nose.

"This is a Teal, a Duck, this is what your supposed to retrieve, got it?" I said to chucks with a tone of frustration and a flared up pain in my side. He lowered his head and looked up at me with those big brown eyes. I don't think he knew what I meant but he knew I wasn't pleased with his retrieve.

"Two More," Happy said in a low tone as two teal landed in the decoys. Numchuck's head popped up and he got a fix on they're location and his tail went to wagging. I pulled the shot gun up and held it waiting. Numchucks shifted his weight and the noise put the two teal to flight. I sighted on one and pulled the trigger. It fell to the water as I ejected the shell and reloaded and sighted the second bird as it was trailing to my right. I wasn't comfortable with the shot so I let it go and lowered the shot gun. 

Numchucks was already in the water and headed towards the duck, in a full out run/swim. I lowered the shot gun and opened my jacket to see the bright red blood seeping through the bandage. The pain was intense but tolerable. I knew I had pulled something in all the excitement.

"You OK?" Happy asked and I closed my jacket.

"Yeah, fine." Just then Numchucks hopped back in the boat and dropped the duck at my feet. Looked me square in the eyes and smiled. Ok panted, but he knew what I wanted from that day forward. Shaking water all over me and Happy as we all rallied the first Retrieve and the birds we bagged.

Opening day that year wasn't Opening day of Duck season. It was opening my eyes to the possibilities this dog had. The friendship that we were about to embark upon. The rare bond that man and dog have to help and comfort each other. They say that Dog's man's best friend. Well, I knew then, that Numchucks, was My new best friend.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 02



Trinity River, Texas~ 

Generally, you never seem to forget the first time you seen your pet. Most of the time its choosing from a litter. Or just recall the cuteness of holding them for the first time and the adjustment of breaking them into their new home. 

The first time I saw Numchucks I was at, "Super Dave's." A character to say the least. This guy had done so much in his life that he was known as Super Dave. The local gossip quartet would ask, "Hey, you seen Super Dave around lately?" 

"Why...No, I haven't, heard he was doing some secret government work over there in Iraq." Another would answer. 

"Oh, I don't doubt it. After single handily putting out those Well fires in Kuwait." The old men tend to gather at the local corner store and rattle yarns about everything. 

Super Dave was a stout and muscular middle aged man. Slightly wild and like to party and raise hell on that firewater. I had met a pair of young ladies at the local tavern/beer joint. One of the ladies took a fancy to me and the other took a fancy to Super Dave and his wild exotic tales. So when the last call rang out the four of us rallied a plan to go over to Super Dave's and continue this evenings delightful camaraderie.

When we got to Dave's, a lake house on the rivers edge, we all went inside and started clearing off the dining room table from the previous camaraderie gathering of the round and filthy table. 

"I've got to feed my dogs, you two ladies make yourself at home. Bathrooms over there and kitchens well...you can see where the kitchen is." Dave was motioning for me to follow so I went with him.

The pier lights were on and guided our path like a beacon as Dave headed out towards the shoreline. The dock planks began to thud as his heavy frame stepped across them. Heading towards the lake, I looked around for some kennels on the bank but saw no sign of any dogs. Dave reached the end of the pier and pulled a cast net out of the boat that hung in a boat sling centered under a tin roof cover.

"You ready?" Dave asked as he rolled the line to the cast net up into a spool in one hand and pulled the slip ring up till the weights dragged letting him know he reached the full draw. Reaching down and spread the cast net out and held it up a moment swinging.

"I guess. You said you had to feed the dogs?" I asked curiously. 

The white cast net spiraled out over the water in a circle with Dave's arms outreached from letting go. The weights spread outwards and splashed in the water and sank. Dave began whistling, "Here boys," then whistled again. Pulling the cast net line slowly and tugging to ensure its fixed capture. Allowing the line to fall freely onto the pier as he pulled the cast net up and out of the water. Dripping wet with water running over the dry pier boards. Seeping through the slats and returning with multiple splashes under the deck.

The dropping of the cast net onto the deck was more a calling than shaking out of the net. The bounty of silver shad wiggled and shined in the light of the pier. Three hard distinct drops of the net to pound loudly onto the deck before Dave finally released dozens of two inch long shad onto the pier. Then he shook it out and set it up to cast again. Lifting it slightly then allowing the weights to pound the deck again before swinging it into another cast.

I heard them coming, I turned but I could see nothing but darkness. The only light around was the piers light and I was on the pier. Thundering and panting across the yard I saw several shadows skip across a few patches of open areas. They got louder but I could see nothing. It was like ghosts coming, I could hear them very well, but I couldn't see them. Just then a black entity went shooting past me. I couldn't say rather it was dog, ghost, big cat or what till it came into the piers full light and even then all I saw was a black object, a shadow.

Two Nine month old Black Lab puppies went straight to the shad that were flapping all over the deck. Dave pulled up and released another full cast net load and the dogs began their feast. I got a little closer so I could try and see these energetic canines.

Of course my first response was, "How much you want for one," Being a Duck Hunter I had always thought of getting a dog that could retrieve but most of the time I lived in apartments but now I was living at the lake, hunting frequently, with the Texas wilderness as my back yard.

"You can't afford these dogs," Dave replied.

"Oh, what makes you say that?" I asked. I was squatted down beside the two hungry puppies getting a better look. They were not Identical at all, one was smaller than the other. One was full bodied and showed to be a healthy and handsome Black Labrador pup. The other was lanky, slim and clumsy. And as always one dog dominates the feeding area and the big dog was letting it know it didn't want to give up any shad to its little brother, Numchucks.

"These dogs come from championship stock." Dave said proudly as he shook the cast net out of all its bait fish. Then put the net back into the boat. His large frame seem to move everything he leaned against.

"How did you get them?" I asked curiously.

"I'm doing some remodeling for a guy over in Bedias that breeds these dogs. Their Mother just won a trial not to long ago. I intend to train them and sell them already hunt ready for $1,500.00." Dave said with a serious look on his face.

"Okay...your right, I can't afford those dogs." I smiled and looked down at the two pups still searching for shad along the pier boards. Finding the bait fishes that had gotten stuck between the planks. Lapping feverishly trying to suck them up out of their entrapment. 

Their eyes shined blue in the reflective light off the pier. Energetic and on a feeding frenzy. Tails wagging and noses working overtime, both dogs hunting for more. Dave fed them dog food, his dilemma was going grocery shopping once a week, Saturday. It was Friday night. He said he bought a large bag every week and those two dogs would run out about Thursday or Friday, then it was shad delight till he could restock. Not exactly the Institute for Retriever training and boarding but then dogs seem to be happy where ever they are.

Shoreline Drive~ My Brother and my Mother worked out a reasonable price for Chucks when Super Dave suddenly had to relocate out of town. I was unaware of the transaction and Alan, my brother brought Numchucks home a few weeks before my Birthday.

"We got you a Birthday present," Alan said as Numchucks shot past him and into my room. Exploring every corner of the room and then trying to jump on the bed when I let out a pleased reply. He was all legs. Already knee high and the biggest paws of any dog I had ever seen. He needed a bath, that was a given, but his basic health seem to be fine.

It wasn't long and he was wearing a Bright new blue collar proudly displaying his vet tag with Identification Number and shot records. Pouncing around the one and half lots in a subdivision on the Trinity River, his new home. The yellow house sat on a very gradual slope that tapered into the water. A fair sized cove just off the river. A pier ascended out in the water before almost every house along the spaced out shore.

His sleeping quarters was an enclosed section under a work bench in the garage that was shared with the cats. With a lamp for light and warmth, of course he had the luxury of coming into the house and yes I let him sleep on the floor in my room some nights. But it didn't take him long to want to explore more than his yard. Especially when we had gone out hunting in the boat and Chucks didn't understand the game limit. I would come in from a hunt and he would turn around and swim back out to the hunting grounds.

I would clean the fowl and eat breakfast, go to work come home and sit on the back porch and relax and watch the river roll by. Numchucks would swim up from the river with a rabbit, Coot or squirrel, no telling what and walk up the steps to the back porch and drop his catch at my feet, sit down and wag his tail. You gotta love a dog like that. I can only assume his blood line was instilled from the Clampets, (Beverly Hillbillies), for some of his personal prize catches were more like road kill than fresh game. Which usually meant another bath.

It wasn't long and we had a routine down. He adjusted to his new home with no problems. Everybody loved him and of course his puppy charm brightened up the homestead. He acquired a butterball belly for a while with all the new attention but it just helped fill him out to a handsome Lab. I didn't feed him shad from a cast net, but I did have a hard time keeping him out of the bait when we went fishing.

"Hey, you seen Super Dave lately?" The old man asked as I walked into the local corner store. His legs crossed and hot coffee in hand. Pushed back his cowboy hat with a large toothless smile.

"No sir I haven't," I replied and gave the tables occupants a hardy 'how-do' Nod.

"Where'd you get that fine looking dog young man?" Another asked while gazing out the window at the Black Lab puppy in the back of my Truck.

"Well, that there's one of Super Dave's Super Duck Dogs." I said snickering. The rumble of soft muttered chatter went around the table as I paid for my coffee and donut. Then went to leave.

"That their's one of Super Dave's Labs?" An elderly man asked in reassurance.

"Yes sir he is." I said proudly as I waved and left. Walked up to the truck where Chucks was wagging his tail wildly. I gave him half of the donut and he ate it whole. Licking his lips wanting more.

"Bet you'll be the topic of the day." I said to Chucks while rubbing his neck and ears. I could only imagine the corner store quartets gossiping sermon for the day.

"Did you know Super Dave has Super Duck Dogs?"

"I don't doubt it after his search and rescue episode in those California fires."

"Fires...California? What the hell's that got to do with Duck Dogs?"

"Who else is gonna go in and save those poor ducks from the fire?" 



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 03



Trinity River, Riverside Texas~ "Shake," I would put my hand out, Numchucks would lift his Paw and place it in my palm and I'd give him a treat. "Sit" and "Stay" were achieved easily, "Heel" was almost instinctive. 

The one thing I recall the most about Retrievers is while I've been out hunting and see a set of hunters off in the distance, chasing their dog through the swamp. Or owners that would yell and yell and yell and their dog never pay attention to them. Or they would fetch the game then devour it. These visions of horror hunts made me keen to total communication and obedience. 

Sitting on the back porch looking out onto the water that seem to drift by endlessly. If I were in the Mojave desert and dying of thirst and was told to close my eyes and imagine heaven or a tranquil place on earth, that's were I would think of. 

The water reflects the suns brightness for most of the day till the sun sinks into the tree tops across the islands that the River has carved out for centuries. Then the River mirrors the skies colors of reds, orange and yellows with sky blues and a deep forest green vale along the shorelines. This was were I like to watch the sunset everyday that was possible. This was were Numchucks got his training, time together, in heaven. The Institute for Retriever Training.

The yard was big and spacious enough but the shoreline was perfect. Decoy tossing became a daily thing. Toss it out into the water and make him sit and wait till the command is given and he would spring into action. Patience is the number one key to training an animal. Their intelligent enough to follow a routine or command that has become a part of their daily life, repetitiously.

I read that Dogs can comprehend up to twenty or more commands understandably. Also reading that some dogs become confused in the field from hearing the same commands from nearby hunters, or even in competition. With much consideration I came up with a select few words to command Numchucks while hunting.

"Bulla bulla," meant there was game, it was the word that triggered his hunting instinct. Never abusing this word (never using it to trick or fool him). He knew when I said that, that there was a squirrel, duck, dove or varmint in my sight. He would straighten out his tail almost straight out and nose easing forward waiting for, "Vamanos," which was go, which also turned into, "lets go." A word that was used by My stepfather constantly which in turn was drilled into my head years before his passing.

When in the field the shotguns blast would trigger his "Vamonos." The four whistles to guide his right, left, in and out with hand signals pointing, usually worked fine. Later the two whistles for out and in became the only two I used and the pointing right and left became his guide. An occasional tossing of a stone to a general area of tall grass would be enough for Chucks to get close enough his nose would zero in the location. One of the major assets of having a retriever, limiting the possibility of lost game.

Along with hunting commands I taught Chucks to "Shake," "Sit up," and after a little trip to the local cornerstone with him in the bed of the pickup, I soon learned that in order for him to ride he needed to be taught not to get out of the truck for any reason unless given a command. This was accomplished with the help of my brother and others who would taunt and coax Chucks to jump out of the trucks bed, while I would reward him for staying in the truck. The bed of this F-150 Ford long wheel base pickup became his second favorite place to be. The River of course being his first.

Numchuck's Institute of Retriever training took on a whole new dimension. He was taught to retrieve sodas out of an ice chest we had on the back porch that didn't have a latch. My brothers beer of course being another canned beverage that Chucks delighted in fetching. If we were out on the dock fishing or tending the yard and got thirsty. "Numchucks, I need a cold can." And he would take off in a full run to the back porch and nudge the cooler lid up, stick his head in and pick up a can gently, ( soft mouthed). Then trot proudly back to you and wait till you took it from him and patted his head. You weren't sure what you were getting if there was more than one type drink in that cooler but by golly he would bring you a cold can of something.

I received him about three weeks before hunting season so he received a crash course crammed with multiple tasks. I inadvertently did everything the retriever training manual said not to. But luckily his eagerness to learn and exceptional intelligence seem to balance out in his daily routine. He was still a puppy which made his concentration array as is with youth. Yet, still keen to retrieve and watch for flying objects. But stretching those puppy legs was almost a must, frequently, when out in the field. 

The major problem with this was the varmints scents that are trailed off everywhere from the past few days. He would immediately hone in on a smell and dart off to investigate, then the hunter yelling for his dog to come back gets a bit frustrated. So long leases were devised. Long enough to let him walk and see that I was serious about staying with the boat. This was learned several times as Chucks was a smart one. I learned that animals have enough wit to trick you, okay, maybe its persistence till they achieve a ploy that gets them their way. 

Nutra were common place and an occasional encounter sent Chucks into a revenge frenzy, he didn't like them much. I can only assume that on one of those man chasing dog, dog chasing Nutra fiascoes, he got bit on the nose. Or on one of his strolls he got ganged up on by these pesky varmints. Which was the local horror tale for most small dogs in the area. Numchucks, declared war on their species and there was an abundance of them around. But control became a major concern so tightening of the lease and command/obey was drilled.

As is with everything timing is the key. I recall a few times that Nutra would dart by closely while Chucks was not leased and then all you would hear was "Growling and Barking" through the tall grass. An occasional splash, then a "Yelp," and a "Snickering" Nutra. But this was Chuck's Puppy days and those rules soon changed as he got wiser to their ways. 

Working with a dog every day becomes hard to do. Generally people work and then come home and cook and clean and get ready for bed. Sitting on the back porch at sunset was his time to go over all his commands then generally spend time with my faithful dog, 'Numchucks.'

For all these things he learned in his Retriever Training Institute will become a tale in itself but how did Chucks get his unusual name? Well, along with Numchuck's Institute for Retriever Training. I was enrolled in Martial Arts and practice was a must. So generally the two got combined on more than one occasion.

"Whatcha' gonna name Him?" My Mother asked while sitting on the back porch. Her delightful aura tends to make you smile a bit more when your around her. Her charm is legendary to say the least. The sun was gone and a light blue sky lit the yard slightly. Crickets chirping at dusk gets common place. 

"I've been calling him Bruce, for Bruce Lee or maybe Chuck for Chuck Norris." I replied with uncertainty. "He doesn't seem to come to Bruce though, he comes to Chuck."

"What are those things called that you twirl around out there in the back yard." My Mom was slightly twirling her hand as if twirling a set of nunchuckas. I would practice with them and do my forms along with kicking the trees and some of that was comical too.

"Numchucks."

"Yea, Numchucks. That has a good ring to it." Numchucks gave his approval immediately and it stuck with him ever since. Of course Chucks was his pet name but Numchucks was the talk of the community for various reasons. One was his undying need to spread the Numchucks seed in the subdivision and the other was his daily strolls out in the jungle. People whom had gone fishing or hunting would tell me they saw that "Numchucks" dog out on the lake again today. The benefits of a smaller community, every one knows whose who's and what's what. Along with who's been with who. 

But After a few days of being on a chain that proved to be disastrous not to mention the beginning of his other pet name, "Houdini." I tried locking him up in the garage. I didn't like it any more than he did. So trial runs were approved of his going to work with me in the back of the truck, which began his Legendary popularity. 



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 04



Chapter Four: Berry Popular

East Texas~

Dogs enjoy their snouts in the wind, out the side of a truck fender, out a car window or at the nose of a boat whipping across the water. Gives them a thrill that's equivalent to our encounters with the Ferris Wheel or the Spinning Tea Pots at the county fair. I have had many dogs in my time and they all seem to enjoy the thrill of a "G force" of fifty-five miles an hour with their eyes squinting and gums flapping wildly in the wind. 

I worked for a local delivery company that did deliveries for banks, lawyers and equipment. I did most of these deliveries in my own vehicle for a larger percentage. Which allowed Numchucks daily rides across Texas in the back of a truck. It also offered more hunting since most routine pickups were at 10:00 am or later. 

An early morning outing into the jungle, or the flooded flats of Robs Lake became routine. The green, 14 foot, john boat with a 25 hsp Johnson motor became our morning transport. The truck, a baby blue, F 150 Ford, Ranger was our daily wagon across Texas's vast miles to deliver various things. But we were together 24/7 for the most part. 

He started to fill out and his "Runt puppy" look soon disappeared. He was definitely a fine tribute to the Black Lab breed. Big soft brown eyes and a plastered smile or pant, its hard to tell them apart. His soft coat and wagging tail was a "Pet me" magnet for any one who got close enough to the truck to see that he was gentle and had an affection nature. Some people have a fear of big black dogs just from sheer sight. But the only malice Chucks ever held was directed towards Nutra. (Swamp Rats)

The majority of the drives we made were to Houston, Navasota, Lufkin and of course locally around Huntsville. There was nothing that was routine. Someday's started early and some kept us out late. A few days started with my feet hitting the ground at a dead run and if Chucks wasn't around then he got left behind. But his fan club (places we frequented) certainly let me know they looked forward to seeing him and that he brighten up their day. With a trick or two he won the hearts of many.

One night it was raining really hard, and yes Numchucks was sitting in the passenger seat like a gentleman, we were on our way home from Cleveland, Texas about two in the morning. Thunder and lightening added to the tension of driving through the rain with zero visibility. 

The truck's tire caught the edge of the shoulder and the force sent the truck spinning like a top across the highway and through the tall grass. Round and round the truck Hydroplaned across asphalt and turf. I recall looking at Numchucks to see if he was ok while twisting and spinning. He was just looking at me like, "Is this supposed to happen?" Just as calm as any ride he ever took.

The bumper of the truck finally embedded across the bar ditch just perfectly to keep the rear wheels off the ground. Several attempts to push the truck free proved to be futile. The rain pelted the truck in the night while I coaxed Numchucks to the floor board while I sprawled out across the bench seat. The lightening and thunder grew louder as did the rain.

"Looks like were here for the night Chucks. Night night." This particular section of FM 980 wasn't well traveled. I left the emergency flashers on just to ensure that I could be seen in case someone did happen by. Along with counting my blessings I realized the seriousness and the responsibility of traveling with an animal.

The dawn brought a sun shine morning with blue skies and a mist of rising dew. I crawled out of the truck stiffly while Chucks sprang playfully to the nearest tree. Which wasn't far since we were in the middle of the forest. Inspecting my situation I realized I needed a tow. So a foot we went, or feet and paws pounding the pavement towards the nearest phone.

Now Chucks had standing pools of water everywhere to quench his thirst. But I on the other hand wasn't prepared for being stranded and the long, long walk was making me thirsty along with a bit hungry. The Highway was generous with patches of black berries everywhere. I was picking them up as fast as I could eat them. Darting towards every plump berry I saw. I began stowing them in my pocket so I could make better time and still satisfy my hunger.

Dogs know the distinct sound of eating. Like radar they come to investigate what's edible. I offered Chucks a berry and he ate it to my surprise. He observed me picking the berries from the patches of vegetation and hand them to him. The second he realized where these tasty morsels were coming from he began his own harvesting. Quickly learning that the unripe red ones, were bitter. And as fast as cleaning your spectacles, he learned where berries grow and how to pick them, carefully.

I was way up the road and he would be at the last patch of berries we encountered. I would bend down and start picking berries and he would come running. As I filled my pocket and traveled on he would pick his fill till I reached the next clump of pick'able delights. We leap-frogged like this all the way to a phone. My boss came and picked us up and we went and towed the truck out of the bar ditch.

If there was one thing I was sure of, that would be that as long as there were berries or bait fish around, Chucks would never go hungry. His retriever training was over, it was full out Duck season and he went to work with me almost everyday. His adventures were about to begin or should I say more situations.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 05



Chapter Five (A blue bird day turns into an adventure)

Trinity River, Riverside Texas~ Blue Bird days was when the sky was cloudless as well as fowl-less. It doesn't take long to figure out that where you are is where the game isn't. So the hunt gets more intresting. The options were always to wait and see or relocate. Relocation meant exploration, search and find, or find that your still not in the right place.

Most birds will "Raft up" out in the middle of a lake. Especially after being shot at a few times in they're trek to fly south. Another option is to flush them out by walking through the tiny Islands that laiden along the river from it's vastness.

"Numchucks, Vamanos." I said as I tied the boat to a limb that protruded upwards from a log along the shoreline. Log jams are as common place as stumps and grass along the river. Shouldering my BPS and survival bag we began a stealth ascent into the dense woods. Hopes were to slowly come out the otherside of this tiny, thin stripped Island and stumble upon a flock of Ducks taking advantage of the southern hospitality of the river.

The fine art of walking quiet with a big dog and rubber waders with gear across dry leaves and blown twigs is challenging. Choosing paths in the woods is like choosing paths in life. The whole world before us and yet the paths cut out of the grass already, lure us. There-fore the path is beaten down and guides us in a direction already used. Assuming this is safer, easier walking and quieter.

Dogs tend to want to take the lead. Numchucks was heading along this beaten trail as I held the lease and set the pace to keep us as quiet as possible. His nose to the ground and sniffing like crazy we crest the slight grade to descend upon the other side of the Island. When I heard the growling sound I immediatly looked down at Chucks to see what he was growling at. But as Numchucks looked up at me and I heard the growl again I realized it wasn't Numchcucks growling.

In front of us about twenty-five yards was the shoreline of another waterway. Along the bank and on this trail that Numchucks and I were on were Alligators. The closest was heading down the trail in the same direction we were. We were behind him and startled it so it growled and was actually running away. Needless to say, Chucks began barking and I began pulling him and we went back the way we came a whole lot faster.

The log jam along the shoreline was not easy access and a different route back to the boat seemed like a faster and quicker way to disperse from this area. In my haste to get back to the boat and my alternative route led me smack dab in the middle of sinking mud. The constant flooding and drying up of the river makes for some very slick and deep mud wholes. Not exactly quicksand but just as dangerous with the same qualities.

Chucks franticly and quickly paddled and crawled his way out. I let go of the lease in fear that I would drag him under with any kind of pull backwards. He reached the waters edge and shook off the thick mud. I on the other hand, was stuck. Trying not to panic and move as slow as possible while looking for my closest exit or grab-able object. I was also trying to look back to see if any of the gators were in pursuit, which they weren't. 

Reality was that they ran from us as we ran from them. The biggest one I saw, was as big as Chucks, tail and all, which isn't really that big but what scared me was there was so many. Fact was that the situation I found myself in was much more serious because a shot gun blast might ward off any angry gators but not a sinking mud hole.

Numchucks was trying to get back to me. But as his paws got to the edge of the slick mud he would back step to safer ground, whimpering. He knew this wasn't a good thing. He made another attempt to dart towards me and I put the shot gun out towards him to obstruck his coming closer. The gun's sling hung downward heavily with mud but I saw a potential solution from its slight flexability.

Unfastening the upper portion of the sling from the barrel which had a loop which went over the oval cylinder of the barrel. I began swaying the shot gun in the air and allowing the sling to fall outwards as far as possible. My intent was to lasso a sturdy limb and pull my self to safety. After eight or nine attempts I finally got the loop around a limb and slowly pulled it tight. My smile was hidden by an inch layer of swamp mud.

As I pulled on the gun to drag myself out, the limb broke. Snapped and fell to the ground with a thud. The loop was still fastened securely to the branch. Numchucks run over to the noise and saw the limb. He looked at me and I was still holding the barrel of the gun and trying to figure out what to do. 

"Numchucks, get the stick. Get it!" We had played with balls, decoys, squirrel tails, socks and even sticks. I could only hope. Numchucks bit into the limb and began backing up. The limb was not a stick, the difference being the size. Numchuck's massive jaws bit down into the wood and with short jerking tugs he began to back up. This limb was equivelent to a small fence post but he chomped around a few times till he could get a good bite and pulled while stepping backwards.

"Vamanos, go...PULL," I yelled over and over as I was swimming, slithering and crawling while Chucks drug me out of that mud hole. I was exhausted and spent but not to tired to give that big lug a mud hug or two or three. Covered in mud from head to toe and back again I slowly stepped to the shoreline and washed off. Then to the boat and home we went.

The sound of the motor roaring and the boat slicing the water with some off beat slapping of the under hull as the boat chops through the swells of the sift river can be mezmerizing. The beautiful east Texas woods reflected into the rivers mirrored surface along the shore as the big blue sky spread its cheerfull color everywhere. I didn't know if I could really call the day's delima a brush with death. But I was certainly counting my blessings and Numchucks was a big one.

Poised at the bow of the boat and sitting as close to the front as his body would allow was his favorite seat. The choppy ride of bouncing up and down only showed his balance and he would ride out a wave or resettle his footing, or paw. Frequently looking back at me for an eye contact of, all is well. Sometimes I even think he winked at me. 



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 06



Houston Texas~

The Blue Ford died and a Black Ford F 250 pick-up truck took its place. The reality of income verses bills forced me to take a job in Houston. Still doing deliveries and Numchucks was still able to ride with me after he was tested.

"Here boy, Numchucks! Come on..." My new boss tried to coax Chucks out with all the tricks, acting like he had food, dropping the tail gate and calling him. For awhile I offered a hundred dollars to any one who could get Chucks to jump out of the bed of the truck. Luckily I never lost that bet but I quit in fear that I would.

The only time that I recall Numchucks getting out of the Truck was when I was downtown Houston. I had held up in a little Mexican Cantina to allow traffic to die down. The rains began again as they always do in the warm summer afternoons of Southeast Texas. I was nestled deep with in the cities tunnel ways and skyscrapers. 

"Its hailing cats and dogs out there," a customer had come into the Cantina dripping wet. Shaking the water from his umbrella and placing it at the bars edge. "There's even a dog at your front door to prove it." My ears perked up while everyone else thought it was a joke.

"What kind of dog?" I asked.

"A Big Black Lab laying under the eve of the building out of the rain at the front door." That's when everyone realized he was serious and I went to see. The rains had become heavy hailing and blowing in such a direction that the corner of the truck that I kept covered for Chucks to get out of the blistering sun or pouring rain was getting sopping wet. Chucks had jumped out and went to where he had seen me disappear into the building. Just laying up in the corner of the entrance out of the pelting gumball size hail.

A small crowd gathered around to see the big black dog that was guarding the entrance of this downtown establishment. The owner was so overwhelmed by Chucks that he allowed Numchucks to come into his place of business anytime I was in there. Chucks was very obedient to curl up next to what ever chair I was sitting in. Seeing-eye dogs were common in the city. Of course many people feel compelled to pet a very gentle and inviting canine. Chucks was always polite and eager to socialize.

One of the electrical supply companies we delivered for daily had a large grassy yard that would be Numchucks favorite running area. His tail would begin wagging before we turned into their yard. The employees loved Chucks and would break out their lunch pales to offer tid bits to watch him do a trick or two. He would jump from the truck to the dock as soon as my bumper laid against the rubber stop.

They made balls out of rolled up tape and paper and would play catch with him while I got the truck loaded for delivery. His quick stroll through the back pipe yard would give him room to run and stretch his legs. A stroll across the vacant field next to this place was were he perked up his tail and slowly sniffed out and flushed the local birds while leaving his mark.

Numchucks got an invitation to their Christmas Party as if he was jotted down onto their Christmas guest list. The huge warehouse was decorated with green and red streamers and kegs of beer were set into new trash cans full of ice. Rows and rows of picnic tables were scattered along the front. A bar was catered and brought in operated by a professional bartender in a vest. The food was catered by a local and very well known Barbecue company. It didn't take Chucks long to get to know the meat carver and all the burnt black and fat that got cut off the brisket was given to Numchucks as fast as he cut it off.

The back area seem to be where most of the action was. Two craps tables were made and both were crowded along with a few tables that had card games going. The yelling and excitement made it a lively party indeed. The heated warehouse was tolerable but everyone still had on jackets and drinking cold beer.

"Art! Where's Numchucks?" Greeted by the friends that we had made from our routes and rounds. 

"By the food, where else?" I replied as I went around shaking hands and handing out some heartfelt "Merry Christmas's."

"I need a beer, tell Numchucks to bring me a beer," The man said drunkenly and perhaps not seriously. I whistled and called Chucks and he came running. Looking from person to person till he spotted me. Wagging his tail as he recognized a few faces.

"I need a cold can, Get the can Chucks." Numchucks took off running. I had an idea of where the coolers were and not really certain that Chucks did either but the gesture was worth the fun. The game of dice got heated up and we all had forgotten that we were joking with Chucks when he come up with a beer in his mouth. It wasn't his brand of beer but the fact he brought one was awesome enough that he didn't complain a bit, in fact relished in Numchuck's ability. 

Another friend wanted a beer too as well as to see if he could do it again or was it dumb luck. I sent Chucks after another cold can and he returned with a beer in mouth just as quickly as he could run. The list of people now wanting a beer was paying one dollar a piece to have this Lab retrieve them a beer with the understanding that what he brought back may or may not be their brand. But exchanges and swapping fixed some of that. Numchucks went to work quickly understanding that as soon as he brought one beer and I pointed to who it went to. Chucks would go and sit before them till they took the beer from him.

Then spin around and dart to get another one. It soon became apparent that he was doing this rather a beer was needed or not. I went to the bathroom and passed the front area up and noticed that when Chucks would come for a beer a group of people would open the cooler lid and Chucks would run up and pick out a can with the aid of his new friends he made in this area of the warehouse. He was a charmer.

As I returned to the dice table area and things had died down a bit some new customer Christmas guests had shown up and were eager to play a few games. The tale of Numchucks retrieving beer peaked one mans interest. 

"I'd pay to see that," he said. A little tipsy of course this man refused to believe a half a dozen guys standing there telling them they saw this dog, go get a beer. "I bet you twenty dollars that a dog can't go get a beer from a cooler."

I whistled for Chucks and he come running up with a beer in his mouth already. I pointed to the man and Chucks went over to him and sat down at his feet waiting for the man to get his beer.

"No, that don't count. He has to go get one, someone probably put it in his mouth. This is a trick." The man stammered, another man took the beer saying he wanted it if that man didn't. The tension grew thick a moment but I sent Chucks after another beer. This man sent one of his friends to ensure that the dog did what was claimed. After Chucks and this man returned Chucks handed me the Beer and the man's friend claimed Numchucks had help at the cooler. 

So ground rules were laid and people posted at the cooler and us back by the tables. I sent Chucks on another can retrieval. The twenty dollar bet was now a hundred dollars and side bets were being exchanged while awaiting Chucks return. Some bet on how long it would take cause most knew he would do it. But how long would it take since he had to open the cooler latches (This man's rules) and retrieve a particular brand of beer out of two cans pushed to the bottom of the ice. The situation turned serious. For me it was a fifty-fifty chance that Chucks would bring back the right beer, for this man he didn't believe it could be done.

Chucks came running up and wagging his tail. The yells from the front let it be known that Chucks had gotten into the cooler and dug into the layers of ice and got the beer as required. The yells and cheers from the back was that he had arrived and delivered the beer. Numchucks proudly walked up to me and sat before me wagging his tail. I took the beer from his mouth and sat it on the table. Squatted down and hugged him. He was as faithful as a geyser and my best friend. 

I paid the man his One Hundred dollars. The beer he brought back wasn't the brand he chose. But that didn't matter Chucks won the hearts of many that night. The Owner of the company wanted to meet the dog he had heard so much about. He and his lovely wife whom was dressed very nice and in a Christmas miniskirt came to the back and met Chucks the wonder dog. Numchucks shook hands with them both and the owner and I were in a conversation when we realized the giggles from the owners wife was her trying to get Chucks nose out from under her short dress.

"Numchucks No!" He didn't hear me I guess cause I had to physically pull him from her, "I'm sorry. He normally minds very well." The lady was gasping for air and saying that it was all right. But it was still embarrassing. Numchucks gained fame and popularity for his tricks and charm that night as well as our daily routes and people we encountered while working in the city. 

Our lives were not routine cause you never knew when you would get a run to West Texas or Louisiana. Galveston wasn't bad cause we would stop at the beach and stretch our legs along the shore. I would stop and visit my fathers grave when we got runs to Amarillo or call a friend I had met in Trade school when I went through Wichita falls. Slept in the back of the truck with Chucks in the night air of Odessa and Midland waiting on dawn, to unload and return to Houston. 

Most deliveries were turn around trips. Deliver and head back was always the objective. But stops were a necessity to say the least. From the Guadelupe River to the Red River. From El Paso to Beaumont we bounced around Texas like a pin ball. Pick ups in places like El Campo and take them to Lufkin. Or Huntsville to Lafayette, Louisiana which was another frequent route that took us through the Annuac National Wildlife area. Another great migratory flyway hold up for passing birds on they're way to Mexico for the winter.

We rode in that truck for more miles than I could count. Like the trip to Corpus Christi when it rained the whole way there and back. We had some long talks on trips like that. He might not have said a whole lot but he was a darn good listener.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 07



Riverside Texas~

Numchucks and I hunted the weekends since work kept us away quite a bit. The planned hunts were almost always with some people wanting to go out with the famous Retriever, Numchucks. My friend Glen from Houston, who became our third leg of the tripod in our weekend outings, was rarely late. In fact he usually had to wake us up to get on the river in time for day break.

Glenn was a character all his own. I always said he should have been a comedian or radio DJ. He was always sarcastic with humor being his delivery. But a delivery driver in Houston was his occupation so weekend get away was his delight. He got to where he would wake me and then go put the boat in the water by lowering the boat slip. Loading and starting the engine to idle and make ready while I sleepily climbed aboard and towards the river we would go.

The morning treks into the jungle became routine. Glen could spot a stump as well as anyone. The "Squawking" of a crane or heron meant we were early and waking the birds. A few hunts had us racing across the river in first light trying to get set up as day broke. But for the most part we got good at making our way around the river in the morning darkness.

"Bulla Bulla," Glen would whisper and we lowered into the boats camo cover. Taking four rods and staking them around the john boat and covering it with camouflage netting. Making the boat a virtual duck blind on wheels, or afloat. Chucks would wait till the blast of the guns were sounded then shoot out his doggie hole made for his entering and exiting. The thought of a missed shot never entered his mind and rarely happened.

And as for his retrieval abilities I can only recall a select few times dove hunting that were challenging to any one that he didn't return with the game. The morning hunt would slip into a mid-afternoon run up wood duck alley. A routine that became a highlight of the days hunt. When the birds had pretty much quit flying in the morning and the day grew brighter. Then the search and find would come into play.

In our exploration we came across a creek that was used mostly for Bass fishermen and a log jam kept every out of a small creek that wound up into the woods for quite a ways. The river was high one day so the log jam was passable. Slowly creeping, paddling, drifting and entering the creeks mysterious oak and moss passageway. Then opening up slightly but still covered with arches of limbs and vines. 

It was not uncommon to spook up a resting deer along the shore line. The quiet gliding boat would get with in yards of a deer before it bolted up and ran and we would be gasping for breath, "What the? Wow, LOOK." White tail flared up and snorting the deer would run off a bit then stop and look back at us with disbelief, then run off. Or the bang of the oar against the side in a miss guided draw would send flocks of ducks into the air just around the bend from us.

Wood Duck Alley, got its name for the number of Wood Ducks that found a haven along the banks of the creek gathering acorns off Newtons Branch. A quick set up and finish our limit and then a little stretch of the legs for Chucks. Glen would tape the hunts and in my opinion some of his best movies came from Wood Duck Alley. The setting was tranquil with small pools of water surrounded by woods and wildlife.

"The Dog in Action," videos were always a pleasure to watch year round. Numchucks turned out to be a ham on tape. But his performance was almost always perfect. The Trips up Wood Duck Alley almost always ensured an adventure. The heavy rains would flood the creek and change it constantly along the rolling hill side. Causing more trees to fall and block the way or jam up in a different location from storm to storm. One day we were up in the Alley when a storm came in. The heavy rains had us head for cover and wait it out. The birds flew everywhere and it was an intense down pour. Glen popped off a shot at a Wood Duck and it fell perfectly into the water. 

The creek was swift by this time and rising at an alarming rate. Numchucks took to the water like a diver at a meet. The way chucks began paddling franticly told us right away that the current was faster than the surface water and the bend in the river created a whirlpool. Numchucks was relentlessly trying to head for the Duck. The Bird was drifting quickly into the rather large whirlpool, about the size of a baseball diamond.

I panicked and yelled for chucks not to get the bird and come here. But never did I plan or feel the need to train him to stop in the middle of a retrieval. He continued after the duck and both were swept into the raging whirlpool of water. Spinning around and around caught in its circular pattern. Chucks never quit, the whole time he would make a circle on each pass he would paddle closer and closer till he got the bird. Then paddled outward from the center of the pools drawing current.

I was shedding clothes and fixing to jump in when it became apparent on his current pattern he was going to get out of the dangerous center in a few more passes around. The Storm got worse as Chucks finally got free from the pull of the whirlpool and brought Glenn his duck. But the heart and soul of relentless dedication was displayed in Chucks. And the Dangers of the River showed itself every other time we went out.

Our evening hunts were usually across the flats where the sun could be seen till its last sliver of light finally disappears as were heading back from the day. The flats would offer some repetitious shooting that kept Chucks hopping from retrieve after retrieve. Glen and I would walk the marsh islands and the sky would become flooded with whistling wings over our heads. Within yards from our ears teal shot by at thirty miles an hour plus. 

Sitting, facing Numchucks would allow for me to see my way and Numchuck's keen eye and slowly focussed head would let me know if one was coming behind me. He would follow with his eyes and his tail would wag. This told me he had one in sight and even which way it was coming from and going to as I readied.

The sound of a birds wings slicing the air in a tranquil setting as a lake is some great soul food. And the conversations of fixing the worlds problems from a Duck Blind is full filling in some way that's hard to explain. Slicing along the rivers winding way in the dark with a deep red sunset disappearing would always signify our journey home. 



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 08



The list of people wanting to go hunting got longer. My boss had me do him a favor and take some clients out and show Numchucks off as well as guide their hunt. The morning came and the number of People grew to be larger than I had expected. They had brought another person which put four of us in the boat plus the dog. The boat was a four man limit which wasn't the problem. The problem was that a couple of these guys made up four men. 

An early morning ride down river, in winter, is cold. A freeze had ice everywhere that water touched the banks or logs. The mist from the temperature difference of the water and the air hung along the river like a smoke trail. That swirled as we broke through the fog and continued through patches of denser concentrated areas then open up to clear as a bell for a while. With only the roaring of the outboard motor to be heard as we made our way to the Island that I was sure would be the best hunt these men had ever seen.

When we got to the cut that opened up to Shoemaker creek we slowed and idled into the water way towards our destination. Numchucks knew where he was and began wagging his tail as we slowly weaved in and out of the stumps in the opening of this creek.

The excitement rose as we got closer to shore. The man up front was spotting the stumps with the spotlight and guiding me right and left through the log jams. The boat jolted and rose up about an inch out of the water as the john boat leaned slightly to the right. Everyone grabbed for something to hold onto while the uneven boat came to a complete stop.

"Freeze, Don't move."

"We are frozen, stiff. It's freezing out here."

"Were on a stump, don't anybody make any sudden moves." I revved the motor in hopes of backing off of the stump but it didn't budge. I tried going forward too but no luck. We were stuck. I came out of my waders and shed a few clothes and slipped over the side and edged my way around in the cold dark water till I could feel the stump with my foot.

I pushed to no avail trying to get the boat free from its wedged position over the tiny and sharp pointed stump that lay inches below the surface, unseen. My barefoot felt along the slimy water soaked timber trying to find a solution to get, unlodged. The group in the boat was becoming more and more unsettled. 

"We're taking on water," One of them yelled.

"Help, HELP. We're drowning." Another yelled.

"We're not drowning yet." I replied as I got back in the boat to see how bad the boat was taking on water which was worse than I expected. The sharp point of the stump had punched through the aluminum bottom and was wedged there from the weight of the boat and its capacity.

"Help, Help!" Another yelled out into the deserted morning lake and jungle. Some spotlights could be seen in the very far distance. Letting us know that the closes hunters were not in shouting range. I was used to the Mystical appearance of the jungle at night. But for a couple of these city slickers, at night (early morning) in the jungle, fear and panic was created. 

Darkness with reflections of twisting logs that protruded from the water like a monsters arm. With winds that gusted and wailed a mournful sound as it swirled through the bare tree tops. Leaves that rustled across the islands like creatures scampering about. The bite of the cold breeze that nipped at your ears lobes till they stung when you go to cover them up with your collar. I always wore a ski cap. I always thought they looked funny but they always kept my ears warm and I was able to keep it dry till now.

The boat took a hard tilt to the right, the balance of every man and dog set a second wave of tremors through the boat which caused one man to panic and leap outwards. The boat swung from his weight and faltered below the waters surface. The rush of incoming water mixed with the already standing water of the boat took the boat under water almost immediately. Chucks took a usual leaping dive forward and splashed to safety. Swimming quickly to shore which wasn't all that far, fifty foot or more. He was black as night so I got very good at listening for his usual shoreline shake.

The men and gear all slipped into the icy water and began swimming to shore as well. I swam back from the boat and watched it overturn in the black water mirrored by the skies hint of light. I watched the white swirls created by the sinking motor, then swam to shore myself. The panic button had been tripped for two of the gentlemen I was guiding. One, still kept his wits about him.

"Help, Can anybody hear me. Help...S.O.S." Yelling out across the lake on an Island that I refereed to as George's Island. My Stepfather had a Duck blind there for years but after his passing it just seemed fit for Glenn and I to refer to it as George's Island. The small wooded patch offered a wind break as well as timber for a fire. Only, no one had a light. My emergency pack was in the boat or at the bottom of the creek.

The realization set in as we built the fire and began the task of starting a fire with sticks. Peeling out of our frozen wet clothes. The gear, rifles (4), ammo and supplies (snack foods) were all submerged or as we discovered later floated down aways before coming to shore. The weather was cold and crisp as the sun began to show hints of its coming soon. Birds were flying in plenty and Chucks didn't understand why we weren't hunting. So he went hunting without us.

Don't know if it was the man Yelling every ten minutes that "We're going to die," or rather Numchucks retrieved us some help but a man come to investigate and found us needing a match in the worst way. Luckily the man had a lighter and a roaring fire was blazing in no time. Along with bellows of smoke from the dampness of the wood.

The man was kind enough to give us a hand, we over turned the upside down floating boat and I matched the small hole with a stick and rammed it into its center, making a plug in the aluminum hull. Bailed the water out of the bottom and picked up our gear that was scattered along the shoreline of life vests, Ice chest, coffee cups and thermos's. Our rescuer pulled us back to the house and a million thanks were given. People like that, are our heroes.

The hunt was a disaster and the task of retrieving these men's rifles and the motor was now at hand. After a quick hull repair and putting the 5 hsp motor on it and I was back to the jungle again. I made several dives in the area were we went down and found the bottom to be very hard to reach. And trying to pin point the exact spot of where the rifles had fallen made it hard to obtain.

Several trips to the area seemed only to discourage me. Finding a Shotgun shell at a time but no rifles yet. I tried dragging a line along the bottom only to find it was hanging up on everything but what I wanted. I measured its depth and found it was eighteen ft deep where we overturned.

The dilemma became an obsession to retrieve these rifles from the depths of the river. I was enrolled in a School for Martial Arts in Huntsville, Texas. And among the many great people I was training with was the owner of the local Salvage yard. Ex-marine and gung-ho this man offered me a solution. He loaned me two large magnets, different sizes and shape. One was ball shaped, appeared broken off, perhaps a piece of machinery that was scraped and the other square. The size and shape of a brick, rectangular.

The trip back out to the rivers junction with this creek was expedient. The tied magnet hit the water with a mighty splash. Allowing the line the reel out of the boat while the sinking magnet raced quickly to the bottom. Dragging it towards the boat while pulling it towards me. Reaching from gripped pull to gripped pull till the heavy magnet got heavier. Still pulling the weight of this metal across the bottom of the rivers mud and stumps was trying. But as the magnet got directly below the boat and I pulled up wards and the boat sank a bit from the weight. I knew I had something. The magnet broke free its hold and jolted me back into the boat with a mighty thud.

Of course the hole still leaked a bit and the bottom of the boat always seem to have an inch of water in it. Bailing was a constant reminder of needing to do a better repair soon. Scrambling to get up with soaking wet hair and excited to the possibilities.

I shed my clothes and inched over the side of the boat and submerged to this location with a small rope. When I got to the bottom of the creeks depths with my eyes open I could see only darkness. Putting my hand in front of my face I couldn't even see my wiggling fingers. But feeling around the muddy bottom I felt the metal boat motor and tied the rope to it quickly and surfaced into the brightness.

I pulled the motor up and found two of the four shotguns along with shells and a stainless steel thermos before having to return. Several trips out to the area and tossing the magnet in different directions till I retrieved another shotgun, some gear, back pack, lighter, knives and whiskey flask. The magnets were the ultimate in finding everything and more. Except one shotgun which as far as I know still lays in the bottom of the river along with a fishing pole once lost but that's another story.

I had a lesson in reblueing rifles. I had a lesson in boating. I had a lesson in guiding others into the wilderness. I had a valuable lesson in the "Depths" of the river. I was humbled by the wild ways of the swamp. A great respect grew for the Ways of the River.

I took two of the men back out weeks later with the leaking boat and 5 hps motor to an island closer to home and they were very pleased with they're hunt dispite their nervousness. The man whom feared for his life never returned. The task of setting decoys and hiding the boat was my job then sit back and let the hunters hunt. Numchucks did all the work of running back and forth retrieving.

"Deeeet peep beep peep beep"

"What in the heck is that?" I asked as a man reached in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. I had never seen or heard of one so I was surprised as the man answered his phone out in the wilds of Texas.

"Hey honey...yea we're fine. No problems we got a few birds and this dog is amazing." The man rambled to his wife while the other man took shots at the passing waterfowl. 

A boat pulled up on the tiny island while we were taking our first break of the mornings folly. It was the Game Warden whom had his dog with him. A curly haired, rust colored, Chesapeake female. Numchucks took off and neither the warden or myself could get our dogs to return. They were in they're own little dog world of romance. The warden went ahead and checked our license, ammo, rifles and game.

The warden was very nice and polite chatting about the mornings hunt while our dogs finally settled down enough or peter'd out enough to get a hold of. I was told the next season in a check by the warden that his "Daisy" had curly haired, black lab pups. 


The invitation to go hunting was narrowed to selective hunters. The boat was put in a welding shop for repair. The Magnets were given back with much thanks. Numchucks had another girl friend and perhaps even a father. I spent a bunch of time that summer swimming and diving for a shot gun but, never found it.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 09



Luckenbauch, Texas~
Anybody who's ever heard of Luckenbauch Texas, has probably heard of Jerry Jeff Walker (Mr. Bojangles/Up against the wall Redneck Mother) and the Gonzo band. Or Willie Nelson and the Outlaws. Luckenbauch is just outside of Fredricksburg, Texas and an Icon for Texas ambiance and the spawning grounds for so many Texas songs.

Glenn and I were tried and true. That meant that we attended any concert or get together that Jerry Jeff Walker's (JJW) band had in our area. Well this particular concert was JJW's annual Birthday bash. The concert this evening was held in the dance hall in Luckenbauch. The bar and store/post office was across the street and that was the extent of the towns structure. Except for the porta-potties that were spread out to accommodate the crowd that had reservations for the annual event.

We took a small camper trailer that was equipped with kitchen, bathroom, air conditioning (that barely worked) and a pull out sleeping area and the tables seating that made another sleeping area. We had been planning for this for quite awhile. We made camp at the KOA down the road from Luckenbauch, Texas.

There were signs posted everywhere, "All dogs must be on a lease." Chucks was content being led around the massive crowd of tourists as well as those awaiting the evening concert. The Birthday BBQ was catered and the line moved swiftly. Glenn and I figured we would wait till the line dies down before getting a plate. The long line seem to bottle up in one area.

Then we noticed the gathering as we saw Gary P. Nunn (London Bridges) signing autographs while the BBQ line kept right on moving. The word was spreading around that Willie Nelson was expected to make an appearance to sing Happy Birthday to JJW. But, if Willie did make it that day, we didn't see him.

"Hey, don't I know you?" Glenn and I heard behind us while we were still gazing towards Gary P. Nunn. Walking past us with a big smile, was John Inman (JJW's lead guitarist).

"Hey John?" Glenn blurted out. Glenn talked John into letting us take a picture with him. I took the camera from Glenn and took his picture with John. Then I stood next to him and Glenn took a picture. Numchucks didn't have an understanding for celebrities. He went in circles around us and the lease tightened around our legs. Making for a slight uncomfortable situation to untangle the lease from poor Johns legs.

Of course a quick pat on the head for Numchucks and a hand shake or two for Glenn and I.  John went to make ready for the evenings JJW's Birthday bash. They called for everyone to enter the dance hall. Once the hall was full and the police skirted the street to ask anyone else to leave for the concert was beginning.

They showed a short film that was made by Hondo Crouch. Hondo played both the good guy in white and the bad guy in black. A home movie that was done in black and white with a western tale. I don't recall the story line. But I do remember being impressed with Hondo's humor and wit. He had long been passed away. But he was remembered as the towns favorite Mayor/storyteller.

His antics on the big full Moon that Texas has is charming. Telling bout the little single couple that sat and touched the backs of their hands together. That scared Hondo.  And how the most exciting thing to happen all week was to see the potato chip man when he came by. The poetry of Hondo had been played repetitiously for years (JJW's album "A man must carry on). But even more so while sitting in Luckenbauch with the Moon shining its magic. 

The Concert was grand as ever. The usual yelling and shouting with hoarse voices from encouragement to play more. While gathering along the front stage to get another autograph. Seem to be as routine as any to have the tickets signed by any or all band members. The hand shakes and howdys were as regular as a tide.

Getting back to the truck and letting Numchucks roam a bit before leaving. Letting the mass of cars exit the field in one long line. Numchucks fetched a few sticks and Glenn and I tossed it out for Chucks to retrieve.

"Hey, you thirsty?" Glenn asked. 

"Sure," I replied. The traffic made it obvious that are best bet was to find something to do for a short, while the cars thinned out some. I grabbed my Guitar and slung it around so it would hang from my back as we made our way towards the Luckenbauch bar/store. Chucks wasn't leased but then again the crowd was gone and the police were down the road directing traffic. As we got closer it appeared the town was closed already. The bar was all boarded up with some small noise coming from its interior, assuming they were cleaning and closing.

Glenn played the Harmonica. So a few tunes from a couple tipsy yet excited concert fans such as us didn't bother anybody cause no one was around. The few that walked by continued to walk as they passed and laughed at our attempts at some tried and true songs. After a while someone come out of the bar/store. Glenn made a dash to catch the door while it was unlocked. Glenn's nosey that way. Well so was Numchucks cause Chucks darted in the bar and that made Glenn go too. I ran over as the door shut closed and was locked again.

There I stood wondering how many things were going to shatter and break in the general store from Numchuck's strong wagging tail. Expecting yells and screams of "Get out of here Dog." Instead I heard a rally of laughter from a small group of people inside. Finally the door opened and Glenn stood there smiling ear to ear. "Come on, check this out."

I stepped into the Bar and looked around for my Dog first and second to find whom was laughing from with in. Glenn stepped through a narrow hallway and I followed. When the hall ended and opened up into another area, I saw the group with which was making all the laughter. The Gonzo band. They too were hold up till traffic died out. But I'm sure not too many people knew they were sitting right here or there would of been a flood of fans.

Numchucks was being petted by a very attractive lady who was sitting next to Bob Livingston (Bass Guitar). I sat next to John Inman (lead Guitarist) The drummer was in the corner and several others scattered out across the room. Lloyd Maines (steel Guitar). Jerry Jeff Walker was no where to be seen, but since I saw his wife at the show, I'm sure he was being good.

"I want your dog?" The lady said in a playful manner. Chucks was sitting in front of her while she massaged his every being. Chucks was soaking up the attention like a sponge absorbs water.

I just laughed and took the drink that was offered to me. "How much?" Glenn asked jokingly. He was always a fast one to play along for a laugh.

"How Much? I'm not paying for him. I want you to give him to me." She said seriously with a slight smile. I laughed even louder. The call was given for the Band to load up and we all dispersed. We had a nice few minutes with the Gonzo band and yes Numchucks stayed with us. I thought we were going to loose him to the Gonzo Band as a roadie or have a tambourine strapped to his forever wagging tail.

Navasota Texas~ Lone Wolf Ranch.
The trip was rememberable and very enjoyable. On the way back we stopped in Navasota and took a picture of Numchucks in the back of my truck pulling the camper with the word's, "Luckenbauch or bust" written on the back with a finger through the highway grime. While at the front gates of, The Lone Wolf Ranch, which belong to Chuck Norris.

The rolling hills of the Navasota area let us know we were close to home. The Black wolf howling over the entrance to the ranch came out clearly in the photo. Numchucks had on his rebel flag bandana and a big smile.

Houston Texas~
We did encounter Jerry Jeff Walker back stage in Houston off Washington Ave. He was in the back and the bar was clearing when Sandra got in a conversation with Bob Livingston about seeing JJW. Her little country charm and cute red headed smile and tight jeans got her an invitation to his dressing room. I sat anxiously awaiting of course till Glenn and I were excepted back stage as well. Numchucks was at home. It was way passed his bed time anyway.

But sure as shooting, Jerry Jeff walker signed our tickets and chatted with us about any question we could think of. I of course had to ask about the black lab in the family photo that was used on a cover of their Christmas album. JJW informed us that, that was a very expensive dog he had purchased and that somebody had stolen him. He informed us that he lost several dogs that way. And that from now on he was going to just get mutts and see if they still get stolen from fans or crazed people who take canines.

The little visit was exciting, to be among a celebrity but to be among your favorite singer/songwriter made it even more exhilarating. Numchucks was tried and true as I was. Perhaps not by choice but he attended all our trips to Luckenbauch or outdoor events that allowed it possible for Chucks to participate. But it seem that the band was as much a fan of Numchuck's as I was of theirs.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 10



(Numchucks the Second, Shinkers)

The River's side, Texas~

Numchucks was a quiet dog, he rarely barked unless there was a reason. I was woke up in the middle of the night by Chuck's barking. I scolded him and told him, "Go, Night Night." It was Wednesday night. Thanksgiving was in the morning. With all the things to do for thanksgiving we had planned an evening hunt instead of a morning hunt.

But his continuous barking told me something was wrong. My brother bolting through my bedroom door and yelling, "The house is on fire," that was my second clue. The hall way was filling up with smoke as I jumped from my bed and scrambled to put something on. 

The back of the house along the porch and the wall along the living room and garage was a-flamed. All adjacent to the fire place. My brother had been up late and had the fire place roaring. Somehow heating up the studs in the wall to a point of igniting. Some quick connections with the water hoses and Alan and I put the fire out. Smoldering smoke and dripping wet back porch, the signs of the dangerous inferno was no more.

The local Volunteer Fire Department shows up as I was rolling up the water hoses. "Its Okay, the fires out." I said as they bolted from their fire truck, gung-ho to do battle with a fire that was already dispersed. But with axes, these anxious fire warriors began hatcheting the walls to look for any possible smoldering fires. The wrecking crew did more damage than the fire did. Tearing out as much drywall and paneling to inspect the studs and interior walls. Standing water pooled up everywhere as the constant spraying was flooding everything. The multiple tracks through the house from wet rubber boots, fire hoses and black smoke and soot was devastating.

After all the excitement settled down and the volunteer firemen finally left I went and took a shower. The smell of smoke and fire is a strong stench and badly needed the relaxing massage of a shower, then to bed. It was every bit of 3 or 4 am by now.

Numchuck's barking woke me up and I looked at the clock it was eight. I got up and opened the bedroom door looking down the hall to see if the fire was the reason for this wake up call. Thinking it might just be time for him to go outside. I got my robe and went and let Numchucks outside. The living room was a mess but not on fire. As I went outside to soak up the beautiful morning and inspect the exterior.

"Your house catch on fire?" A neighbor asked walking up from down the road.

"Yep, last night." I replied, watching Chucks greet them as they turned into the driveway raising their hand and pointing, walking towards me.

"No, your house...it's on fire."

I turned to see what he was pointing at and smoke was coming rather quickly from the backside of the house. I darted through the garage and when I got to the door to the back porch, I saw the fire was alive again along the back wall. I quickly got the water hose and began spraying it down with water. 

The excitement rose again as I got the flames under control while Numchucks barked and woke my brother. He came out sleepy eye'd then got the other hose and we put the flames out again. The constant spraying after there was no more fire was insurance that it wasn't coming back to life. 

The fire trucks pulled up about the time we had already forgotten we had a second fire and just put the breakfast dishes in the sink. The hatchet squad got to back to having a swinging good time tearing out more walls and giving the structure a much more thorough inspection, before finally leaving. 

The fire at the house never started up again but the fire that was about to begin never died. Thanksgiving Day we gave thanks, that everyone was all right and that the fire never really got out of control. What did get out of control was the fact my ex-girlfriend (Sandra) called and her and her friend (Teresa) wanted to come to the lake for the weekend, to get away. I explained the house was a mess and that we had just had a fire. But what's a little fire for a red head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This started a long distance romance that took Numchucks and I on weekend trips to Marshal, Texas. Sandra liked Chucks so much that she called one day and said, "I got me a lab."

"Oh, you sure its a lab?" I know what a Lab pup looks like but most people might call a little black dog, a black lab to get rid of it.

"Yes. Its father was a Black Lab and the mother's a chuaua."

Now is it just me or do you find this statement interesting? I was in total disbelief till I made a trip up to Marshal and saw this for my self. The little black puppy looked like a black Lab, only teeny tiny. The smallest black lab in the world.

"Whatcha gonna name him?" I asked with curiosity. The five week old pup was being weaned from its mother and instinctively went to Chucks to nurse. Well that didn't go over real good, but Numchucks seem to understand but he still growled at the pup and warned him not to do that again.

I wouldn't believe this if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Sandra thumbed through the local advertisement papers for inspiration to name the puppy. After several trials of words selected from the news paper and off the tops of our heads. She found an ad that said "SHINKERS." I don't recall what was being called this but the word rang out nicely so he got his name, Shinkers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Grrrrrrrr..." Came the sound in the middle of the night. The lights were out and everyone was asleep.

"What's that?" Sandra whispered from the covers. The dark room lit slightly from the windows wintery glow. I listened in the dark for clues to why Chucks would Growl.

"GRRRR...Snap."

"Arg...whimper whimper."

"I think Shinkers is trying to get him some milk." I replied after it was obvious. "Numchucks, chill."

The two became best buds that's for sure. But the lab, chuaua mix had shinkers eventually grow to one-third the size of Chucks. He looked just like a lab from head to tale. But his legs were like they were cut off. Short legs with big paws. And like Chucks he showed to be an intelligent Dog right off. Shinkers became Chuck's little shadow. His legs would keep him from being a hunting dog. But Chucks had that covered. Shinkers became the guard dog that traveled with Sandra everywhere as Chucks did with me.

Shinkers was a circus dog. This dog did some amazing tricks that won the hearts of so many as well as Chucks. He learned to fetch our slippers from a game of Hide and seek. The task was so amusing that, "Go fetch the slippers," was daily fun more than the need for something afoot.

He would shake with you and then tell him to, "Give you his other paw" and he would swap paws and shake with you again. When he sat-up and begged, he had such good balance that he could sit there for almost as long as you could wait for him to quit. He spoke, tell him to "Speak," and he'd begin his folly of quiet little growls/bark mixed. Sometimes I would think he was trying to talk. But what he was saying? I had no idea. I think he just wanted to have a conversation along with everyone else. Shinkers didn't think of himself as a dog. I believe Shinkers thought like a human.

"Play dead," was cute as was his "Roll over." His most endearing trick of all was a combination of tricks that we saw on TV and realized Shinkers already knew the tricks. We just had o put them together. "Sit Pretty," would be the command. Shinkers would sit up and beg and while he would be sitting up point your finger at him as if it were a pistol. "Bang, play dead," And Shinkers would fall over to his side and play dead, it was the cutest thing.

The trips to Marshall became routine, arriving on Friday nights and leaving on Sunday to return to Houston. One Sunday while loading the truck to return, I had Numchucks in the back of the truck already to go. I hoped in the car with Sandra to go around the corner to the store and be right back. "Numchucks, watch the truck."

When I returned, Numchucks was gone. I hunted every road leading every which way for way longer than my time frame allowed. I searched my self silly. I eventually had no choice but to go back to Houston without him. And yes, that was one of the longest trip I have ever made.

Sandra called the pound daily, checked the news papers lost and found, drove up and down the roads calling for him for days. Needless to say I called every chance I got for an up date.

Thursday morning, four days later, the vet called and said they were called and given a number for someone had found a black lab with the vet's tag. "Numchucks" I was at work on a delivery. Sandra was at her job. I talked my boss into letting me head up there after "Chucks," with a delivery in that direction. When I got to Marshall, Sandra had Numchucks at her house and yes, I hugged my dog for a long time.

Of course he got an ear full on the way back to Houston. But we were back together again. I went to the house of those who had found Numchucks. I gave them a thank you card with twenty dollars in it. They definitely tried to refuse but I was very insistent. If there's one thing I could recommend to Canine Owners, that would be, have your dog's vet tag, on a secure collar. You may only need it once but that once will make the difference.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 11



Numchucks, the Legend

Chapter 11

Marshall, Texas~

I pulled up in front of Sandra's house with my truck pulling a sixteen foot flat bed trailer. Numchucks was in the bed of truck wagging his tail for he knew where Shinkers lived. It was March and the weather was nice, spring was in the air.

"What's the trailer for?" Sandra asked as she came out to greet Chucks and I. 

"This is my last trip to Marshall. Your coming back with me." I had teased her for the last few trips that I was going to do this. I made three times as much as she did so I was pressuring her to give up her job and friends and move to Houston with me. I felt that the long distance romance was way passed finding an easier solution.

"Oh I am?" Her cocky little way flared out behind a smile. Her long red hair waved freely in the breeze as she thought long and hard what to say. "What makes you so sure I'll go?"

"I'm not, but I came with the trailer in hopes of talking you into moving to Houston with me." I could only negotiate with her, for telling her to do something would only insure that she wouldn't do it. 

Houston Texas~

After a weekend of negotiations and a notice to her employment. The chore of finding an apartment that allowed two dogs. Enroll Phillip (Her son) in school and still make my deliveries had me busy for a bit. But we all found a little happiness in a two bedroom apartment off hwy. 290 in Houston.

The Dog's, Numchucks and Shinkers would rotate out every other day to ride with me to work. The apartment had a small patio and Phillip walked the dogs regular. So they got out more than the average dog.

Riverside Texas~

Phillip, who was in his early teens became the third leg of the hunting tripod. Carl Smith, a good friend up at the river allowed us use of his canoe whenever we wanted. Numchucks and Phillip tussled over who was going to sit at the bow in the canoe. They were the same size except Numchucks had Phillip out weighed.

There is something special about taking a youth out hunting for the first time. Explaining and guiding them along while they're excited, anxious and scared to death, all bundled up in the freezing cold, holding a shot gun, with more questions than any text book I ever read.

The responsibility of setting a person on the right path of Gun edict and proper reasoning for hunting in an age where its actually cheaper to go by your game bird in the grocery store. Proper techniques for field dressing and the importance of the Laws, rules and regulations. The instinct of man to hunt and to hunt with a dog and their importance. Of course the first bird downed Numchucks went for like a pro. 

Phillip saw Chucks with a different perspective and an enormous respect. He also caught the Duck Hunting Fever. Of course Grandma's eyes narrowed a bit when he got a single shot 12 gauge for Christmas. But he showed nothing but respectful handling of his firearm at all times and showed to be a conservative shooter as well.

Houston Texas~

One day while at work, making a quick stop by the office to turn in some paper work, I got caught up in a conversation with my boss about hunting. He enlightened me that he was ashamed to say that after his experiences with Numchucks that he went out and bought a Black Lab. Not just bought the dog but then had it sent to obedience school, Retriever school, Children insurance behavioral class and snake training.

I had to ask what the snake training was? He informed me that they train the dogs to leave snakes alone. Well, the cost for this training was enormous and the sad statement he made that, his dog was, "Dumber than a bucket of rocks," was a common statement from many who had dreams of owning a retriever. He admitted that he didn't get to spend the time with him that he needed and I'm sure that's where the break down was.

Riverside Texas~

Glen was paddling the canoe. Taking turns was only a fair way to get around. The heat of the day had us going from shaded area to shaded area along the river. The overhanging limbs and leaves were refuge from the blistering summer sun. A little fishing was always a delight.

Paddling under another shaded area along the shoreline of the bluffs. Slowing up against a log to take a short pause in the cool shade. Numchuck's black coat had to be hot but we were making our way back from a morning run up river and the sun sprang up, a bit on the hot side.

The crashing, banging noise got my attention as I turned around and Glen was banging the paddle against the log with full force. Raising it over his head and bringing it down with a mighty crash against the log. Again and again. The paddle was shattering and splintering with each blow. The noise was cracking across the river in echoes.

Glen stopped and looked at me all excited and smiling. "I got him, I got him by golly." All I saw was what was left of a paddle in his hand and the pieces scattered in enough pieces that made it useless. And that was the only paddle, hence the taking turns to use that ONE paddle.

Looking down finally I saw his prize. A cotton mouth had curled up on the log that we just happened to want to be at, in the shade. We happened upon this little guys noon day resting spot. Well, not anymore thanks to Glen. The reason I brought this up was I was wondering if maybe we should put people through snake training. We were literally stranded (Luckily) "UP," river without a paddle.

Well, what did we do? I pulled the canoe with the rope and began swimming towards home. It was hot and the river was cool so away I swam. Glen refuse to get in the river after seeing as many cotton mouths as we had that day. Numchucks swam along with me. He took the rope I held, thinking it was a game and pulled the canoe swimming past me. So I crawled back in the canoe and Numchucks pulled the canoe most of the way home. Gotta love a dog like that.

Houston Texas~

My boss wanted me to take another group of people out hunting. He wanted Numchucks to be there as well as his dog. To not only see what to do by Numchucks example but in case the clients got a bird, then it would be retrieved for sure by Numchucks, if his dog didn't do well.

Riverside Texas~

Two canoes went out that morning. One dog, Numchucks. My boss didn't show. His partner and the people I was to guide showed up though, so away we went. Paddling across the river and into the flooded flats of Robs Lake in the dark of early morning.

Spreading the four men into two groups ensured them more Shots. The weather was perfect Duck Hunting weather, overcast and slightly windy. The birds were flying in and out of the decoys. The men were shooting up a storm and Numchucks was working back and forth between the two groups retrieving each and every bird. 

If one group got a Duck and called Numchucks. Chucks would run over to that group and await the signal or pointing finger then head that way and then back to the other group. If there was any confusion, it was that Numchucks didn't know who to take the bird to. When this happened he would bring it straight to me. Give it to me and run after another as if to say here you know what to do with it, I'm busy.

The hunters were most pleased with Numchucks as was I. I've had some perfect hunts but this was one that was challenging for Chucks but he did as well as any champion. The men all ate breakfast while I cleaned the fowl. A heated conversation came about while they loaded up their vehicles to head home, to Houston.

"I'll give you 998.00 dollars for Numchucks. That's every penny I got." A man insisted with a serious tone in his voice.

"No, Numchucks ain't for sale."

"Look you can buy another dog and train it and still have plenty of money. Your obviously a great trainer. That's almost one thousand dollars." The man said with persistence.

"No, I didn't train him, he trained me." I replied with honesty.

"Here I'll loan you some more money," another man said trying to help his friend up the offer for my dog.

"How Much? Everything has a price." The man insisted. I could have made a pretty penny, I'm sure. 

But the only thing I could think of was. "No, he's a present from my Brother and my Mother. You can't take a present and turn around and sell it." I said with a snicker.

"Sure you can." Was their reply.

"Well Numchucks has become more like family. And you can't sell family." I said with an even bigger grin.

"Sure you can."

Needless to say I didn't sell my family. Numchucks made some new fans and I made a few brownie points for guiding these gentlemen out for a hunt of a lifetime. His reputation grew and his performance only got better.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 12



Georgie Girl

Houston Texas~

Numchucks and I were making a delivery to a regular customer in the Southwest Houston area. This company had an Office, small warehouse about the size of a four car garage and a back parking area for their service trucks.

With an arm full of boxes I walked through the warehouse to deliver their supplies. On a rope, by the opening to the back yet curled up in the cool concrete floor of the warehouse, lay this (I say this politely and with great respect, now) Ugly dog. Medium sized, skin and bones, greyhound looking canine that came to me with wagging tail.

I greeted her with a pat on the head and some kind words. The customer came to help me and we exchanged the usual "How do's."

When I got a moment I went and petted the Dog. The man was a bit amazed that she let me near her. He insisted that the dog hates everyone. He was going to take her to the pound later that afternoon cause he couldn't deal with her. I on the other hand, had never met a dog I didn't like.

I looked at her and knew she was headed to the gas chamber. Well, maybe they don't gas dogs anymore but that's what I was thinking at the time. So I took her with me. She went in the back of the truck with Chucks like they were old friends. But soon made it clear she was no push over.

Of course someone else let it be known they weren't a push over either. My now, wife, Sandra. She didn't like the idea of another dog with us already having two. And I agree, my hopes was to find a home for her up at the river where I thought many would like to have a semi-guard dog. According to the man who gave her to me, she ran every one off including him. I hadn't seen that side of her yet.

It was only a day later that I came home with the news that I was fairly certain I had found a home for the dog. I was informed at that time that Phillip had become fond of, "Georgie Girl." I couldn't argue with democracy. So she became the third dog in our family. I had Chucks, Sandra had Shinkers and now Phillip had Georgie Girl.

The name seem to fit and she came to it eagerly. She always seem timid with her tail low if not between her legs. Her floppy type ears always back. And seem gentle as a lamb.

I went to check on Phillip while making the rounds of checking the doors and turning off the lights at night. I opened the door and stuck my head in and took a peek. "Grrrrrrrrrr..."

"Georgie Girl? It's me." And then silence. She was starting to come out of her shell and relax around us more and more. But one thing I was sure of, nobody would be going into Phillips room at night without an aggressive canine to contend with.

Phillips chore was to walk the dogs regular. I had hopes that this would teach him that taking care of an animal is a great responsibility. This also got him out of the house some. I recall walking out on the patio and seeing Numchucks running across the parking lot like a Husky pulling a sled. Of course the weight being Phillip who was holding the lease tightly. Being dragged across the grass and pavement. This was when alternative measures were taken. Like Sandra or I walking Numchucks.

But the weekends at the park and weekday trips that Sandra took them on showed Georgie Girls true talent. Numchucks and Shinkers would jump from the truck or car with joy and anticipation. Later maybe even fear. Georgie girl would sit back and watch.

"Well go get 'em." Was all it took. Georgie girl was the fastest dog I had ever seen. I figured she had to be Greyhound. The man claimed she was an Australian Whippet. I never heard of such a dog. But apparently they are used for hunting for their speed, but to watch her capture a dog, was a sight to see.

She normally passed Shunkers up, more for an ambition to catch the lead dog I figure. But straight to Numchucks who hasn't quit running yet and Georgie Girl would clip Chucks legs and as he fell she went straight for the throat. Snarling and growling and quit as though she was just playing. Then as if she wasn't done yet she headed for Shinkers as if to say, "Now your turn." And then repeat the process by catching, clipping his legs and then hold him by the throat for a few seconds. And if she chose to...she would get up and then go after Numchucks again. Of course Numchucks could see it in her eyes and bolt, to no avail.

Numchucks and Shinkers would prance around the back of the truck eager to get in. Waiting on the tail gate to drop so they could jump in. With Georgie Girl there was no need to drop the tail gate. Tell her, "Let's go," and she sprang over the fender and into the bed of the truck with ease. I've seen her jump into the cab of the truck with the window half way up. 

So Georgie Girl got to ride with me to work on alternate days. She took to traveling as well as the other two. And always acted like a perfect lady. I would sometimes get between deliveries and pull over into a shaded area and wait for my pager to go off which usually didn't take, long enough for a nap. But this particular day I was going to try and squeeze one in. It was hot so the windows were down. I was sunken in my seat with my hat pulled down and basically somewhere between reality and dreamland.

"Grrrrrrr....ruff ruff snap." Georgie's growl woke me up. I looked straight at her and she was looking at me. From the passenger seat she lunged towards me. Now, I didn't know any better, I thought she was finally showing what this man said was to be the viscous dog that attacked everyone.

But she went right by my head and at the window by my head she went to barking and growling and causing such a fuss. I turned and looked out my window to see a man stepping back from the truck window very slowly. 

"Sorry man, didn't know you had a dog. I was just going to see if you had a smoke I could borrow." Needless to say I didn't loan him anything. And Georgie girl finally showed that she was part of the family. For dogs protect there own in a pack. I was honored as well as pleased with Georgie Girl's protective way. It soon got around that you didn't touch the truck if Georgie was riding with me. You couldn't walk with in three foot of the truck without her sounding like a pack of angry wolves. She was the perfect alarm as well as protective device in the big city of Houston.

I made a delivery back to the place where I had gotten Georgie girl several times and for the longest time I rarely had Georgie girl and this location on the same day. But one day I went there with Georgie. The man came running to the truck wanting to see the dog he had given me.

"Grrrrrrrrrr..." Georgie's hair stood on end. The sign she was about to devour something. And this dog couldn't hold fat if you tied it to her. Skinny as a rail all the time but somehow she still had a look about her that let you know she was serious.

"What have you been doing with her? Why's she growling?" The man asked with a nervous tone in his voice.

"I've been giving her love. What had you been doing to her to make her not like you?" I asked back. For Georgie had proved to be a very affectionate and endearing canine. I could only speculate the reasons why Georgie despised this man. But she was well loved now. Perhaps Georgie had learned what love and a good home was and when she saw this man she thought of her passed and didn't want to go back. 

Georgie became part of the family. Phillip's dog had her own personality and purpose. Numchucks was the retriever, Shinkers was the dog that did all the tricks and Georgie Girl became the sergeant of arms. The guardian. The dog you didn't mess with.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 13



Houdini and the Invisible Fence

Marshall Texas~

The winds of change blew us to Marshall, Texas. Loaded up a U-Haul and moved. There was about a half a dozen reasons why but the most important reason was Sandra's Grandmother had been given less than a year to live by her doctors. We had been making trips back and forth on weekends but that was getting less and less with the expensive gas prices rising.

So we moved to Martin trailer park out off the loop. The woods surrounded the medium size park. Offering some great nature walks through the woods. Our house was next to the creek so our front door faced the woods not the rows of mobile homes that were scattered about. This was where Numchucks began earning his name of "Houdini."

I first put him out by the creek where it was cooler, chained him to a big pecan tree and built an A-frame type dog house. The chain I used was rather heavy and I fastened it to his collar. But He soon showed his ability to pull out of his collar so we bought a choke chain which only slowed his escapes down but it didn't contain him. The dogs were allowed in the trailer park but weren't allowed to roam freely. Well, Chucks wasn't used to that so training him to stay in the yard was a constant chore.

I purchased some of the largest swivels that were offered at the hardware store. Attached them to Chucks choke chain, they would last about a week of Numchuck's twisting and twisting till they broke and he would be free again. Roaming and wondering the neighborhood. Now Chucks didn't have a mean bone in his body. But people see a big black dog wondering around and they get scared, understandably.

So I was constantly trying to find, contain, chain and or fence this free roaming canine. Which I was given some fencing from a man whom I did some work for. The seven foot high chain link fence was erected and a good size dog house was built. All three dogs were happy with this new addition. Well it didn't take Houdini long to figure out how to get on the dog house and jump over the fence and free once again.

So of course the dog house became a center piece in the fenced in area. That only got Numchucks to try out his digging abilities. That dog could even climb the fence like a man. One paw at a time pulling himself over the fence and running like the wind towards the woods. A routine he had been accustomed to all his life.

Sometimes the other two dogs would go with him. Georgie and Shinkers were more home bodied dogs. Unless Chucks took off they generally stayed around the house. But a they had become a tripod team. They bonded together as well as any pack of dogs and defended each other like family. Of course Georgie being the only one to really get aggressive. Shinkers liked everybody and Chucks was just a nomad. 

I'm sure the little nature walks that Phillip, Sandra and I took through the East Texas thicket was some encouragement. Sandra would shoot through openings in the briar only big enough for a rabbit (or her) and the dogs. I would walk the cool creek area and of course Numchucks would be on the hunt for black berries.

I understand the animals need to roam and hunt. They live by a different rule book than man. They don't understand boundaries, property, ownership and responsibilities. They don't think about a tomorrow, only the here and now. They don't understand rules of the trailer park, I've tried to read them to the dogs several times but they just don't get it.

I had gotten injured at work. Was hospitalized and had surgery. I was out of the hospital one day. Had surgery three days prior was in my house coat and underwear on the front porch. Soaking up the Texas air, when this man and his wife pulled up to the end of the road. Right off my driveway. Got out and was telling me he was going to shoot my dog.

"Which dog?" I yelled back.

"That black lab." He replied. Numchucks was chained to the tree. That seem to hold Houdini longer than anything. I was barely able to walk with staples holding my incision closed. Chucks was laid under a pine tree closest to this man. This man was known in the trailer park as "The Rabbit man." Because he raised prize Rabbits out behind his trailer a couple roads over.

I stood up feeling the need to get a little closer and try to understand why this was being said. "I don't think your gonna do any such thing. Why do you want to shoot my dog?" I asked curiously. And honestly I believe some heated words were exchanged about now cause by the time I got to this man, my wife was coming out to see what all the yelling was about. I had limped over to the back of this mans truck, El Camino.

"Your dogs been killing my $450.00 prize rabbits." He was a bit upset. This man was older, mid fifties perhaps. I was in my mid thirties. He was five foot ten inches or so. I'm Five foot seven inches. He was Heavy, stout and energetic. I was holding my surgery, weak and barely tipped the scales over one hundred pounds. This man swung at me. Among all his yelling and becoming inflamed, he swung at me.

I was at this time a second Dan (degree black belt) in Tae Kwon Do. With ranks in tang soo do, akido and moo duk kwan. Later I became the owner of my own Do jo (later in this story) and believe I handle situations with the utmost tactfulness. To try and avoid confrontation and use martial arts as a last resort. Well, when a mans swinging at you, you know which way this confrontations heading. 

He swung several times and I deflected and redirected him with his every move. Remember I can hardly walk much less dance the dance of anger. But truly my self defense tactics kept him at bay. He struggled with his own movements as I kept twisting him and using his weight to twirl him away. My son (Phillip) jumped on this man while he was constantly trying even harder to land a punch. Sandra came in and got Phillip and drug him from harms way.

I don't think anyone actually saw it, but Numchucks came up and I think that was the first time I had ever seen him lunge at anyone. It wasn't like an angry growling wolf but more like a dog that barks and jumps up on you. But the man took off and I grabbed Chucks which Sandra came and took him back to the yard. Where he had obviously broken the latch trying to help out.

The Rabbit man went to his car door and bent down and began searching behind his seat. His wife (Mrs. Rabbit man) yelled, "Oh my God he's getting the gun."

I forgot my surgery at this point. I reached in and pulled the man from his car. As he arose from its interior he wheeled a long butcher type knife. I believe the correct description would be a chicken cutting knife. About ten inches long and maybe two inches wide. Gripping it in his right hand and pulled back slightly then thrusted it forward.

I have heard it called many things, from turning on the switch to total Zen focus and what I like to call, "In the Zone." Where your total focus is on what's at hand. Especially when in combat with another. This is what we practice for all the years in the dojo. For the one time when you do get attacked to be able to survive using what had been taught and practiced for many years. It paid off this day for me.

The knife came straight for my tummy with great strength and speed. I was able to redirect his arm outward causing him to miss his target, me. My first attempt at subduing the knife was unsuccessful. But the second stabbing came quickly and I secured his arm enough that I took the knife from his hand by pulling the blade backwards hard and fast. He released the knife as I pulled it from his grasp it cut my arm slightly. The upper forearm got a cut about a half an inch long.

Rabbit man began backing up and his cowboy boots had been giving him trouble with his footing from the start. His balance was lost and he slipped and fell catching himself with his hands and regaining his footing. I looked at the knife and all I could think of was what my Instructor had taught us which was to toss the weapon out of "Play." So I tossed the knife as far as I could towards the woods for the moment. I certainly wasn't planning to stab an elderly man even if he was trying to kill me.

He went back to rummaging around his car again. I could only imagine he was still looking for his "Gun." I turned towards Sandra and asked her, "What should I do?" She was coming back from putting Numchucks and Phillip into the house. The deputy sheriffs came whipping into the trailer park and found us without any problems. I guess a crowd and a man in his night close is like waving a flag in the woods but needless to say I was glad to see them.

They got out of their cars. Two county officers in two vehicles. They walked up with their usual one officer takes one man and gets his story while the other officer gets the other's story. Well these two officers knew Rabbit man. 

"Hey Jim," (Officer)

"Hey Joe," (Rabbit man)

"What's going on here?" (Officer)

"This man's dog ate two of my prize winning, 500 dollar hares." (Rabbit man) "I came to see what he was going to do about it and he attacked me."

These two friends, I meant officers, knew Rabbit man. Rabbit man worked for the city in the waterworks department. They shot the breeze like they had some catching up to do about who's who in the family. I tried to tell my side of the story but it was if I wasn't even speaking. I looked at Sandra and told her, "Get me someone out here that's not with the county sheriff's office. And she did.

A DPS (Department of Public Safety) Trooper came instantly. He took my story and got the sheriff's story and got Rabbit mans tale, then went out towards the woods where I told him I threw the knife.

"Where ya going," asked one of the county sheriff's officers to the DPS officer.

"Gonna' see if there really is a knife," The large African-American Texas Trooper replied.

"You don't believe that there really is a knife do you?" Asked the county officer.

"Don't know till I look," replied the Trooper. He probably didn't search for less than five minutes when he found the knife. And of course they began yelling that the knife could have been there from some other instance that I'm using now in my story. Which would have been a good argument except the blood on the knife from my forearm cut was still damp.

They had to arrest Rabbit man which really upset the county officers. The trooper solved the case of whose lying about their story and we all had to go down town and file complaints at the city police station. Not the sheriff's office which should have been my first clue that things don't always operate the way they should. Regardless, I got dressed and we made it to the police station limping along from my surgery.

We were taken to the investigating officer who took our report. And of course everything went well till we brought up the Knife. Which at this time was considered in their report to be a screw driver. Well, after a lengthy conversation with the Investigator. He finally went to the "property" room and returned with a ten inch screw driver. The numbers matched for the officers that logged in the item and there sat the weapon used, a screwdriver. I felt screwed.

I was just arriving at home from the police station after an eventful day. The whole thing came down to me finally pressing charges which I at first had said, " No, I don't want to put this old man in jail who's upset over loosing a couple rabbits. I understand." But when it come out all covered up and shuffled under the matt before I could get to the station, well I was wanting to expose the corruptness of the law enforcement at that time. (It has gotten better since) But there driving by flipping me the finger was Rabbit man. He got out of jail and back home after attempted murder as fast as it took me to go fill out a report.

Needless to say this triggered an all out attempt to keep Numchucks and the other dogs contained. Knowing that if they get loose one time, they'll be shot. Only I was sitting out on the porch one day and saw a dog wonder aimlessly into Rabbit mans back yard. A shot rang out in the whole area. The dog looked around as if not sure what the noise was and walked on off. I don't know if he missed or was trying scare tactics but I didn't want to find out what would happen if Chucks wondered his way.

The decision was made to get the "new" "state of the art" "guaranteed to work" all purpose "Invisible Fence." This gadget was a marvel. Lay a wire along the outer yard where you would want your dog's domain to be. Bury the wire in the ground shallow and "walla" instant invisible fence. The dogs wore collars that had little electrical shocks if they get close to the wire so they quickly learn where they can run freely and where they will be zapped if they get close. This was a great Idea for any dog or dog owner, except for Houdini.

Now at first I thought maybe Chucks wasn't getting enough exercise or not enough room to run freely in an open field because he began running in circles in the yard. Build up speed and used every available space that allowed without getting the shock. Then he would run full blast across the wire. Zapping him during the time his collar is close to the fence. But Numchucks found out it only hurts for a minute then off and running like a greyhound with its tail on fire. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

"Phillip, go get Chucks. He's headed to Rabbit mans." Now Phillip was a teen and run like the wind. He became the retriever of the retriever on many of Houdini's (Numchucks) escapes. But for the most part we did all we could to contain Chucks and the other two dogs weren't dogs that strayed from home unless led by an adventurous "Lets go," black lab.

One day I was sitting on the porch and saw a black lab sniffing his way across the yard. I instantly hollered for "Numchucks." But Numchucks was in the house. This dog had all the markings of a true Labrador. Black and it did look like Chucks, as far as it was a retriever also. This dog went straight over to Rabbit man's back yard sniffed around and left. But I knew then why everything came about. 

The only other thing that I can think of that happened with this man was once when Numchucks got loose I chased him over to Rabbit mans back yard where he started doing his little spin in a circle a few times and raise his tail while squatting.

"Numchucks, not now." Yep, left Rabbit man a happy heap then ran home. I don't know if that's what Numchucks thought of this man or it was a revenge present or just plain dumb luck. But I couldn't have expressed myself any better how I felt about this man, than Chucks did.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 14



Chapter 14 (Tracking)

I was at work when I get this phone call from my wife (Sandra) informing me that Phillip and his cousin (Michelle) had runaway, off into the woods. Needless to say I took off and headed towards the house and the woods. 

Come to find out Phillip and his cousin were doing school work at the kitchen table. The window they sat by offered an alluring view of the woods. Now Phillip was wood wise. He had been hunting with me several times and the woods he went into were the same once we walked weekly. There was miles and miles of nothing one way and a highway and a town the other.

Numchucks was barking at the end of his chain towards the woods when I pulled up. The usual display when the kids went to play without him. After a quick conversion with Sandra and released ole Numchucks and off into the woods after the kids we went.

Now when you enter the woods you quickly come upon a creek, where you would generally go left along a hillside that took you through miles and miles of wooded terrain. I searched the creek for tracks and found they're crossing and up the hillside. Numchucks was already way off sniffing around ahead of me. He went towards town.

"Numchucks, get back here. They went into the woods not towards town and police and people who would see them." I took Chucks by the collar and led him back to the creek. Now in his mind he must have been thinking, "Oh, Okay...you want to go this way."

Because after hunting and tracking all day in the woods. I mean every inch of this thicket would be impossible. But the main trails and hang outs were checked and no kids. The police were alerted and they came and took a report and began their search. Sandra drove the roads and Chucks and I kept hunting the woods.

It was that afternoon that the kids came home in the back of a county sheriffs vehicle. They had been found in town and brought them home immediately. Then the tale unraveled.

Michelle had been in trouble (grounded) and wanting to runaway to better circumstances. She talked Phillip who was not in any trouble at that time, to go with her cause he knew the woods. He was decked out from head to toe in his camouflage hunting clothes. He even had his survival pack that was a must on our trips out. It was a green army ammo pouch with a zip lock baggy containing, Band-Aids, crackers (which was eaten the first hour) first aid cream, matches (which I found out later they used up a whole book of matches trying to light dew damp leaves for a fire, to cook their sardines) Can of sardines (gone) Pen and Paper. Some hard candies and a Texas annual hunting rules and regulations booklet for that year.

They went across the highway and into town. Michelle's legs were all cut up, her arms too, from running and hiking through the brush of the East Texas thicket. She had on shorts and a short sleeve shirt, poor child looked like she got a hundred lashes with a switch before she got home to get in trouble. They were dodging cars from my understanding by ducking into woods and ditches as cars came and went as not to be seen.

This one elderly black lady saw them trying to hide from cars and drove up and offered them a ride. Now I know some words were exchanged but they took the ride, reluctantly but the lady was convincing and took them home up the street to allow them to use the phone. Offered them cookies and drink and they were off again. This lady called the police and reported it and they zoomed to the location and spotted the kids and brought them home.

I don't recall the full extent of Phillip's punishment. I never spanked him, he will tell you to this day that I demanded him to do pushups. He got to where he was doing 200 push-ups and laughing about them. That's when we went to sit ups. But anyway Sandra and I took Phillip (15) to the county sheriffs office to let Phillip offer to do anything around the station to make up for the time and money the police put out for searching for him.

Now the Sheriff (Bob Green) thought this was cute and even played along and took Phillip on the grand tour of the jail, strolled him along the bars of hardened criminals (Assuming not) while his mother and I waited in the Sheriffs office with snickers and giggles.

A lot of time and worry as well as man power could have been saved if I had listened to Chucks and followed him instead of pull him to where I thought they were. I even think he looked at me with that "I told you so," look.

On a more serious note Michelle, Stacey, Melissa and Grandma (Sandra's Mom (Pat)) lived next door. Me, Sandra, Phillip, Numchucks, Shinkers and Georgie girl lived next to the woods. The escape route. But all that was about to change with the passing of Sandra's Grandmother (Margaret Wisdom). The winds of change had come again.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 15



Chapter 15 (The Dolly)

Marshall Texas~

With Grandma Wisdom's passing came the move of moves. Pat (Sandra's Mother) and the girls (Michelle, Stacey and Melissa) whom were in Pat's care now after much debate of placement after their mothers (Gwen, Sandra's sister) death, moved into grandma Wisdom's house. 

Sandra, Phillip and I moved into Pat's trailer. Now we were renting to own. But Sandra's job was over in Shreveport, Louisiana. Mine was painting with a local painter and he's a chapter in itself but anyway. The transition went fairly well but money got tight and an argument come between Sandra and I so I decided to leave. But Sandra was physically trying to make me stay.

She called the police and they came driving into the trailer park as Numchucks and I got to the road. They saw me and Chuck's so I dove into the woods. I look back now and wonder why I ran other than the fact that they were in pursuit. Well I had on a camo shirt (redneck that I am) and went into the woods about thirty foot and laid down behind some brush in a thick part of the woods. The officer came to the edge of the woods and shined his flashlight over us. I laid over Numchucks and covered his eyes so they wouldn't shine. Ducking my head and laying still, telling Chucks to be still as we did so many times hunting.

I heard the officer say, "I ain't going in there."

After a few darting sprints across backroads and fences. I made my way towards Longview through the woods. Walked all night to get to Hallsville where I called my Mother and she drove up (from Riverside) and got me. The sheriffs pulled up several times and asked if I was the one having a bout with the wife at the trailer park in Marshall since I was the only one walking along the highway with a big black lab. "Yep. That's me."

Riverside Texas~

The separation lasted a little while till one day Sandra came down while my Mother was up north visiting with my step dads (Al) mother (Mrs. Arnold). The hot tub scene would make a nice chapter in an erotic story so I'll omit that but the reunion began then.

Numchucks had disappeared for a week and came back beat up badly. Chucks couldn't hardly walk and it looked like he had been beaten and dragged off and left for dead. I called Sandra upset and Sandra drove down to Riverside and got me and I went back to Marshall. It took awhile before Numchucks fully recovered from his wounds and always had a gray patch of hair over his left eye after that. His scar.

Marshall Texas~

Thinks were still rocky and after a long while another spat between Sandra and I had me leaving again. With only one car and her at work I left a note and me and Chucks headed home to Riverside on foot. I waited and she never showed so I figured she was mad and off doing something else like visiting the Gambling boats in Shreveport. Come to find out she had a flat and the problem was she didn't have a lock key for the hub caps on the wheel. Someone finally helped Phillip who was with Sandra. (He often went to work with her to stock the cooler and sweep the parking lot for small change.)

Little did I know why she was late so I had loaded up some survival supplies onto a Dolly (hand truck). Tent, rifle, fishing equipment, can goods and supplies. Clothes and hygiene condiments and my raft. My plan was to hike to Palestine Texas then ride the Trinity River home.

Now this dolly idea was pretty good except it took a lot out of you pulling it up a hill on the side of the road. I would grab Chucks collar and he would pull me while I pulled the hand cart and it made the climb easier. Didn't take me long to rig up a harness that worked for Chucks to pull the Dolly all by himself. It was well balanced where he really didn't have the weight on him. All he had to do was walk and pull. Several people stopped and offered assistance but they were in cars and only offered kind words about the sight of this dog pulling this cart. Not offering us a ride to where we needed to go. One man in a truck picked us up and took us to his cut off which was at Martin creek state park.

Martin Creek State park~

This was where we spent the second night of our journey. The first night we stayed at an abandoned Truck stop at highway 43 and Highway 20. But the park offered serenity and a place to camp. The fireplace offered a place to heat the canned potatoes and beans. But the rain kept us in the tent for a day at least. Of course after a rain comes the humidity on a hot sunny day to follow. But Chucks and I took turns pulling the Dolly and stopping every chance we got to drink, rest and or fish.

I recall running out of water and coming up on a house near Tatum and an older black lady was outside watering her flowers when I asked if Chucks and I could get some water and she Kindly allowed me to fill my containers from her water hose and faucet. Loaded the Dolly up with resupplied H2o and off we went again. Numchucks would step into his harness when he was ready to go. As if saying, "Come on, we got miles to travel."

Tatum Texas~

When I reached Tatum Texas I had a couple of days to think about what we had fought about. I called her (Sandra) from Tatum only to find out she was at work. I called Pat (Sandra's Mother) to see how things were. The next thing I know Pats pulling up to Tatum in thirty minutes when it took Chucks and I three days to walk it. We loaded the dolly into the trunk of the car and headed back to Marshall. I ate and ate till I hurt myself. Numchucks probably did the same. Our outing into the wilds wasn't exactly offering some delicious and filling meals like a home does.

I was in the tub soaking when Sandra come home from work. I hadn't seen her in about four days. But she acted as if we had never left. Seriously I thought she would yell or fill me with hugs and kisses but no, she just went right on like nothing ever happened. Of course the adventurous tales we (Numchucks and I) brought back were laughed about for years. The Dog that pulls the dolly when running away.

This was a turning point and realization set in that we needed to become a two vehicle family. Of course it wound up being all we could do to keep two cars going and Sandra make the drive to Louisiana safely. There were even a couple taxi days where she took a taxi home from Shreveport La to Marshall. It didn't take long to realize we also needed to relocate or transfer.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 16



Chapter 16 (Baby Boo)

Lake O' the Pines~

Sandra got a Transfer to Jefferson Texas, about twenty miles north of Marshall. The drive was shorter but it gave us a focus point as to where to move. Now finding a place you like isn't easy. The constant searching and talking with Realtors. The classifieds and sales papers. Till we finally found a double lot in a subdivision on Lake O' the Pines. Called, "The Pines."

But moving a trailer and the tearing down of the porches and water lines and getting the electric hooked up. Digging new water lines and skirting the trailer along with putting up a fence for the dogs. It took awhile before we looked settled. Rebuilding the covered porch and leveling the trailer. Building a driveway across the ditch along the road. It was summer time so Phillip was out of school for the summer which meant we had plenty to do.

Finally we got to where Phillip and I could explore our new surroundings. And exploration was not all by choice, the subdivision was anything but predictable at first. We were trying to find the shortest route to the lake the first day and wound up lost. But eventually found the right roads to take and ended up being about a ten minute walk through the subdivision to the lake.

Our new neighbor turned out to be an acquaintance of Phillips from when he took Tang Soo Do (Korean Martial Arts) in Marshall Texas. Arron was seventeen and Phillip was sixteen. So we all made daily trips to the lake fishing. Arron had been up at the lake for years and never went fishing. I intended to change that.

Arron's dog was a golden retriever, "Foreman." A very effectionate and gentle canine that got along with our dogs as well as the twenty or thirty cats and kittens they had. Shinkers was the barker, everytime he saw one of the cats next door he would bark, which was always. But us and the dogs got accustom to our new place with our old home quite nicely.

After we had been there awhile, came a chilling awakening. The knock on the door was frantic. Pounding loudly and vigorously. I went to answer it. Opening the front door I see Arron standing there out of breath, panting. "Somebody shot Foreman. I gotta go, my moms waiting to take me to church." He said with excitement. "Please check on him."

"Okay," I replied. Uncertain as to what he meant as he darted off and hopped in his mothers car and they left. I went around back and towards their house when I saw Foreman curled up next to their Air Conditioning unit. "Hey Foreman," I said as I approached him. His tail wagged slightly then quit. I didn't see anything wrong with him at first but as soon as I knelt down next to him and tried to roll him over is when I saw he was laying in a pool of blood.

I ran back to the house and called Sandra who was busy at work with no way to bring the car to me. (Still a one car family at this time) I called the vet in town to see if they had an animal ambulance or a solution. Of course the first question was where was he shot at?

"I'm not sure. In the subdivision I guess." I answered.

"That's not what I meant." The lady replied nicely with a snicker. "Where on his body is he shot?" She re-asked.

"Oh...I'm not sure exactly. Let me go see and I'll get back with you." They didn't offer an ambulance service at all so I was going to have to find someone to help me transport this big dog to the vet. I returned to Arron's and tried to move Foreman gently to get a better look. 

As he raised up and tried to walk is when I saw his front leg dangling. Held on by a small piece of skin. The bone and muscle had been severed by the bullet. It appeared that the shooter was aiming for the chest area. Only thankfully he missed, but Foreman's front leg was just hanging so I got him to lay back down away from the pool of blood he was in and fix him as comfortable as I could.

To my surprise Sandra came driving up into the yard. She had taken off on an emergency at her job which was rarely permitted. I was relieved to see her. Opened up the back of the car and tried to coax Foreman in at first but soon realized he wasn't going to get up. He had lost to much blood and wasn't doing to well. So I picked him up as carefully as possible and put him in the car. Riding in the back with him while Sandra jetted to the Veterinarians.

Foreman didn't whine whimper or anything which I believe he was in shock with blood loss and pain. The Vet agreed to wait for us which was wonderful. Sandra came as fast as she could and we got this neighbors dog to the doctor. I was so baffled how anyone could run off to anywhere while they're dog was shot and bled to death but I was thankful we got him to the animal hospital.

I agreed to pay for the surgery of removal of his leg if the owners couldn't or wouldn't. The Veterinarian led me into the back operating room and I laid Foreman down on the table. The doctor began immediately to operate. There was nothing more we could do. We left him and went home. They would be keeping him for a couple days any how to watch his recovery. 

Arron payed for the surgery, Foreman came home and healed quickly. He was from then on known as the three legged dog in the neighborhood. When ever foreman saw me he would come hobbling up with a smile and wagging his tail. We all made a new friend with foreman with a bond that stirred the emotions.

Our dogs had a fence made of chicken wire that after Numchucks had pulled it out and buried under it. Then Shiners and Georgie girl would follow and all three would roam off together. So I concerted around the bottom of the fence. It was a lot of work with Sandra and Phillips help we made a project out of building a fence that the dogs (Numchucks) couldn't destroy or escape from.

But Houdini (Numchucks) kept finding ways to make his daily pilgrimage into the woods of east Texas. I even chained him to a tree in the yard that was fenced and I knew by Time I come home he'd be coming back from his daily outing. New fasteners and bigger swivels with choke chain only slowed him down a few days. He would twist and turn back and forth forever till he wore the metal out enough to break it. Or figure out something to hook his collar to that aids him in his collar removal. (Tell me this dog wasn't smart?)

But the fear only worsened when Shinkers didn't come back from the trios outting (escape) one day. It was only a couple days of searching before Sandra put an ad in the news paper with a reward for a lost dog, "Shinkers."

Shinkers was never found. Speculation is he was shot. Even though we were farther out in the country, we were in a housing area that we found out's nickname was, "Outlaw Ridge." The search never ended for Shinkers for months. Somedays a simple reminder would spark a drive through the subdivision to see if perhaps he was fenced up and visible. Hope's inspire new areas to look all the time. Or someone would call and say they saw a dog like Shinkers and we would drop everything and go looking.

It's sad to loose an animal (pet) and of course the not knowing what happen only adds to the sadness. But eventually it sank in, Shinkers was gone. His circus tricks and loving disposition will always be remembered by Sandra, Phillip and Myself, Numchucks and Georgie girl and Boots.

Boots was Sandra's new dog. We acquired him back at Martin trailer park in Marshall prior to moving to the pines. A full blood Chihuahua, black with white markings and four white feet, hence, "Boots."

Boots took a shine to Shinkers. Boots was the security alarm that went off all the time. Simple words would set this little ankle biter to barking. Like, "Shinkers" and Boots would go crazy barking towards the door as if Shinkers was going to bust through with his curly tail wagging. Sandra would say, "Get Dau...ddy." (Meaning me) and Boots would lunge at me viscously. Of course what was a game turned out to be Sandra's own personal bodyguard. Only a bit small but mean as a wolverine. But lovable as furry bunny.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 17



(Lone Star: the one legged Mockingbird)

Jefferson Texas~

"Look at that bird!" Sandra said as I noticed it too. A small (young) Mockingbird was not running from a car that drove right next to it. Then it's left wing only, went out and stayed as if to balance itself. I got out of the car from the drivers side at the drive thru window of Dairy Queen. Walked up to the bird which then did flee but in a circle which brought him right back to me.

I scooped the bird up and held it lightly cupped in my hands. It was obviously at the age to learn to fly and had broken its wing and one leg which dangled loosely from him. Not knowing what to do I first offered the bird to the workers of this establishment. They refused it so Sandra and I took it home.

We called the Vet and they recommended we put the bird back or make it as comfortable as possible cause a wild bird will not make it with a broke wing and leg. And will more than likely die in captivity. We called the State of Texas to report having found this animal (Mockingbirds are the State bird )and they too said the bird would perish. The future of this little mockingbird was very grim. 

Sandra went and found out all she could on the Internet about mockingbirds. What they eat and how they live and where. Likes and dislikes. While I went to playing doctor and clipped the loose leg that was dying and drying and causing him more problems. After removal of his leg I patched his wing really good.

Sandra and I owned several parakeets and cockateels as we moved around so we had a very large breeding cage out back that we put together in the living room of the house and fixed it up for his needs. Water, bread, seeds and an easy to walk on flooring while still able to clean by removing newspapers.

Sandra purchased a container for crickets at the bait shop that was half way from town to home every few days we would stock back up. Phillip was the grasshopper man. He would make daily walks to find grasshoppers for him and I was the worm man. I already had some prime spots where I would get some nice size nightcrawler worms for fishing on the way to the lake. The worms varied in size which gave this mockingbird ample food supply.

I never knew a wild bird ate so much. More than the common house bird. And the fact that they ate live insects was what made it even more of a challenge. But after a couple weeks we realized that this bird was going to make. He was already making leaping hops out of the cage which we never shut the front door. It needed to have all the room a wild bird could get. So this bird quickly adjusted to having only one leg and one wing. Which the wing healed quickly so I question it's break.

But 'one of the family' this bird became so we had to name it. Sandra came up with the perfect name of "Lone Star," since the mockingbird is the state bird of Texas. The Lone Star State.

He became known as Lone Star, the one legged Mockingbird. He would have full run of the house and this wasn't difficult at first. But soon Lone Star was diving and landing on Numchuck's back. Or on my head. My Camo Baseball cap would be like a magnet for his clumsy landings. As he got around more and more he began pecking everything. Especially my hat or the dogs. For being so small this little bird was afraid of nothing. 

Wings flapping with flashes of white all through the house. We were able to pin him up and close the door when guests came to visit. Which was a big help, but everyone wanted to see the bird fly through the house and land near enough they could try and pet it. Only to get pecked in the process.

Numchucks did let the little pecker know that he was bigger and a hunter of birds one day when he had his fill of the pesky pecks. But as I recall a time when he was back in retriever training that a small baby purple martin had fallen from its nest out under the tin boat sling. I sent Numchucks out into the water to get the baby bird. Numchucks swam up to it and took it into its mouth and swan back to me. I was astounded to find the bird totally intact and energetically unharmed. Numchuck's soft mouth training paid off again. The purple martin was placed back in the nest and so was Lone Star (unharmed)

Lone Star learned to fly well and worked into a routine of outings of the cage while we were they're. He did become domesticated to a degree but always had his wildside. Unpredictable would be the best way to describe it. Always move slow not to intimidate any creature. But even when they have been around you awhile they don't understand pecking someone hurts.

I was even leaving the front door open and letting Lone star hear the other Mockingbirds when they were around and being noisy. Even had a smaller cage that we would put him in and set him outside when he got to singing. Mockingbirds are vocal and loud. He seem to have made a few friends and one day while the door was open he made a flying soar out the door and as he glided across the front yard like a rock out of a sling shot. A gust of wind came and took Lone Star straight up into the air and then drifted off past the house and on into the wild blue yonder.

I had made calls back and forth with Lone star for months now so It was like calling a dog. I'd whistle then I would hear Lone Star's distinct loud cackle. It was as if he hadn't been taught proper bird linguistics and just screamed, "Help."

I found him and saw he was halfway up a tall pine tree. And no matter how much I called he didn't come down. After a very long time he fell from his current perch down wards for a few more feet. Landing in a clump of leaves and branches still high above. So I eventually and reluctantly climbed the tree and retrieved "Lone Star" from his little joy ride. As I got to the bottom and cradled the mockingbird into my arms I saw Numchucks looking at me a bit funny. Perhaps he was impressed with that retrieve and was trying to figure out how to do that."

Lone Star the one legged mockingbird died of reasons no one knows. He didn't show any signs of being ill. Was energetic as ever but one day he just never woke up. He lived way way longer than anybody thought. He truly became an inspiration to us all. For to be so small and handicapped with one leg and taken out of his element and domesticated. An Icon for the will to survive. As unnatural as it maybe, a friend to Numchucks. The big black lab's back was the easiest target for Lone Star to make his crash landings. Which may be why lone star took to Numchucks more than the smaller, other dogs.

When ever I hear a singing Mockingbird or the flash of white as they fly. I always salute the brave little birds. The State bird and I recall Lone Star the one legged Mockingbird.



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 18



(Where are you?)

Jefferson Texas~

"Numchuck's...NUMCHUCKS!" I called and called. Walked the woods close to the house and drove the roads till late into the night. "Numchucks where are you?" I would call just to break the monotony of the same name over and over.

The next day a neighbor from down the road walked up while I was outside and told me that her husband had witnessed "The big black dog of ya'lls was laying in the road and a truck pulling a boat came around the corner and ran over your dog."

"WHAT?" I was appalled at the thought. After hearing what she told me we pieced together where Numchucks had went into the woods hurt. The man driving the truck 'did' stop and get out. But georgie girl chased the man around the truck a few times till he got in his truck and left.

I searched the woods surrounding the house till midnight at least. In the dark and with a flash light hoping to catch the shine in his eyes. But never found him. Georgie girl was fine and home. Boots was curled up next to Sandra. But Numchucks was gone.

Sandra called me at work to tell me that Numchucks came dragging up injured. He had been in a section of woods that was opposite where I had looked going by what was told to me. But he didn't have anything broken but his back hips were injured and sore. He could hardly get up and even harder for him to walk. But he was home. It took him a very long time to heal. He never fully could get up again without added effort. Given his current age of twelve years already he was starting to look like an old man. 

His gray hair in someplaces with white around his beard and whiskers and then when he went to get up he was slower then snails. But bless his heart he still made you feel welcome and loved with his frequent desires to be petted. Needless to say Houdini didn't go far anymore.

Lake o' the pines~ (A feild)

"That dog is amazing," Rick said as Numchucks handed him his dove. The spot we were sitting at was on a fly pattern and shooting was constant. Numchucks retrieved with wagging tail and enthusiasm. Slightly limping but joyfully prancing through the brush on retrieve after retrieve.

"Yep he's a good one." I replied smiling proudly from ear to ear. Rick was a supervisor where I worked and the other supervisor/freind didn't make it. So Rick got the full meal deal hunting package. The birds were flying in plenty and the dog didn't allow any to get away. 

Rick had shot a dove and it fell sixty or seventy yards behind him. I saw about where it had fallen but Rick couldn't exactly see behind him. Numchucks took my cue and disappeared into the brush. We all three were on the hunt for this downed bird. For a very long time. I can only say that the dog has man beat in the hunting department. Numchucks found this bird in the worst terrain possible, still able to get around. So as we moved around so did the bird. Till the keen nose of Chucks found him and retrieved him. The true benefit of hunting with a dog.

"I'm getting me a dog, a retriever. Without a doubt." Rick said as we sat back down. Numchucks laid at my feet with panting tongue and wore out. I knew then it was his last hunt. I couldn't expect much more from him. His heart was full of desire but his body wasn't able to get around very well. But I knew that the field would be a good place to let him come with me. I just didn't expect the trouble we had trying to retrieve one bird.

Two deer came wondering up in the field ahead of us and we all watched with awe. Numchucks didn't even whimper. He just watched they're every move. Rick and I froze solid. The deer went past and the feeling of being there just then was exhilarating. But Numchucks acted like he had seen it a hundred times before, a seasoned vet of the outback. Nothing new for him, or he was just plum tuckered out.

The Pines~

"Numchuck's where are you." I was calling and calling for days. He didn't go very far cause he couldn't get around that good. He had gotten better but I didn't think he would wonder off. He did.

"Numchucks, where are you?" I called as I drove the roads for a month looking for him just as we had done for Shinkers. But I never saw him again. I assume he did the one last outing before passing on. He was fifteen years old but not in great shape. Not in poor shape either but not for a long distance haul. But with Chucks it wasn't uncommon at this time to have him gone for days. But months went by.

"Numchucks where are you?" I'd like to think he is still out there hunting. The legendary dog that would run over, retrieve birds and take it to the one who shot it like he knew who's bird it was. Retrieve you a cold beverage on a hot day. Warm your hands while out hunting in weather of less than 32 degrees. The dog that couldn't be contained took a final walk in the woods.

"Numchuck's...where are you?"



Numchucks: The Legend Ch. 19



Chapter 19: Revival

"I have Numchucks. Please get in touch with me. IMPORTANT." Was the message on my E-mail. Thirteen messages from Sandra. I was back in Riverside and she was still at The Pines. Separated but kept in contact through e-mail a few random calls. Two years later and get a message like that. I was trying to shake the idea that this was possible. All the messages said the same thing pretty much just sent at different times.

I E-mailed her back with my "Doubt it's Numchuck's" reply. But curiosity got the better of me and I called. Sandra said she was coming home and was a couple blocks away from the house when she saw a black Lab and thought it was Numchucks so she rolled down the window on the vehicle and yelled, "Numchucks, go home."

She said the dog went straight to the house and up the porch and waited to be let in the door. She took a few pictures and sent them e-mail. I was in total disbelief. The dog looked like chucks with the scar over the left eye and even a whitish beard. But this dog was smaller and didn't limp.

Phillip drove up immediately (He lives in Marshall) to see if it was him. Phillip said he noticed right off it wasn't chucks but Sandra swore it came to the right house and looks like him. Finally I asked her to check his teeth. Numchucks had lost half his teeth in his old age. This dog had a full set of teeth and healthy too. Later Sandra found the owners and returned to lost lab to it's home.

But the Legendary Numchucks had made such an impression of being a miracle dog that I couldn't put it past the fact it could happen. We feel this dog maybe one of many that Chucks spawned on his frequent outings and roams.

I know that while at the subdivision in riverside I had several people call me and ask if I would help get rid of the puppies that "Our" dogs had created out of passion. I don't doubt that he left his seed in several places. And I know that his wonderful nature and excellent retriever abilities are instilled and still out there somewhere. I always wished I had gotten a female Lab and bred him and trained retrievers of the finest kind. But that's a should have. I have no regrets except that gnawing feeling of, "Numchucks, where are you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They had to put ole pig eye down today," one of the Riverside gossiping quartet said with a note of sorrow. The band of aged desperado's sat at the local corner store.

"Brutus? The tiger stripe pit bull of Al's?"

"Yep, the Mill works and Cabinet shop mascot."

"Yep, ole Iron Tail himself. I swear when that dog wagged his tail and it hit your leg it was like a 'weed eater attack'." The elderly gentlemen all took their caps off and placed it over their hearts and bowed their heads in a moment of silence.

"Amen." The old men sat in quiet somber for a moment. "Ain't had a 'dogs of war' day in awhile." The old man sniffled then wiped his nose with his handkerchief. Obviously sorrowed.

"Your right, we haven't." Another answered. "I salute the Dogs of World War Two." The man said and raised his coffee. The congregation that was growing of the elderly that met for a morning cup of Java all raised their mugs as well. "I've seen those dogs work over there in Germany, Norway and France. Those French now they taught some dogs to go out into the battle field and find wounded soldiers." The man said with excitement.

"You always say that." Another said while shaking his head as if he had heard it a hundred times.

"Snow dogs, now there's a breed for ya. Pulled men across miles and miles of snow with those sleighs."

"To cold for me. I like the good ole southern Hog Dog. Eye to eye tooth to tooth and growl for growl."

"Speaking of cold, they got a pet cemetery up there in New York that's supposed to be the cat's meow as far as canine burial plots. It's got a monument dedicated to those Dogs that served as Soldiers."

"Wonder if they except old war dogs like us." One of them chuckled which started a round of laughter. 

"Hey I got one. Here's to Super Daves Super Duck Dog, Numchucks." An elderly gentleman said with his coffee cup held up.

Another cup was raised then another as they all cued together, "Salute." Raising their coffee then drinking a sip. 

"Somebody said they seen that ole Black Lab out doing his daily rounds in the jungle the other day."

"Can't be old Chucks?"

"Why not? Your still trolling through the jungle with that old Envenrude." A chuckle rang out from the table.

"Ain't no doubt that dog will be talked about for a while."

"Yep, Legendary..."

"Numchucks, the Legend."