Newscoma

“I found that old dog in a ditch,” Mr. Joe said. “He was a good old dog. Best dog I ever had.”

I’d heard the story before. Mr. Joe is an older man in Hoots who fought proudly as a fireman for years. Cancer tried to give him a run but he’s beat it thus far and sometimes he repeats himself, telling the same story. I realize that it’s a story he likes a great deal and when I see him, I listen. I’ve never learned the dog’s name, but the story sticks with me.

I took a picture of him a few years ago at a Barbecue Cook Off when he was given an award for his service at the department. It was a fire ax and he smiled a wonderful smile when they placed it in his hands. I saw him wipe tears away from his eyes that day nearly three years ago.

When I see him, he will drink a Coke and talk about his dog or the time he had to jump off a train in Fulton. There are times I want the Engineer to hear this story because I think he would love it. It’s about him being young and taking the train to get home to Hoots, how he only had a dime in his pocket and the kindness of a stranger (who bought him quite a few beers according to Mr. Joe and how he got in trouble with his mother when he got home. I love that story.)

Mr. Joe is usually smiling. And, as it goes, he makes me smile.

However, I usually think about that “old dog he found in a ditch” the most. There are times as I grow older that I can relate with that dog. And how a kind man, who has thus far beaten cancer and many aspects of age , saved the dog.

And as he speaks of it, I realize that old dog in the ditch saved him too.

If you listen, you can hear the story within the story.