He said they were rabbit dogs, good dogs.
And my granddaddy wanted them.
He said every time he saw my granddaddy, he told him what fine dogs they were, and how much he wanted them.
So one day, one bright clear Sunday, he slipped up to the farm while Granddaddy was at church, and he dropped those dogs off in the yard. Then he went along on home.
He said my granddaddy called him up after church and told him his dogs were running around his yard, and he told him nope, those were his dogs.
And that’s how my granddaddy got his favorite rabbit dogs.
Because an old friend gave them to him.
I had never heard this story, but this morning, I did.
Mr. Ellis told me about my granddaddy and good old dogs, and about how it was to know him back in the day before he was my granddaddy.
And he told me a story about my daddy, about The Old Farmer. Every year, just before it was time to start the old Farmall tractor, The Old Farmer would call him to come up and get it started for him.
He used it just once a year, to plow his garden, and Ellis would try to get it going.
I listened to him today tell me about my people, about the folks I had come from, about who they were years ago before I was even thought of, and it was good.
It was good to know about them before they were granddaddies, daddies, mamas, and grandmamas before they were the people who raised me, taught me, and made me into the woman I am today.
This evening, may we all remember who we are.
May we all remember that we are children of a great God who loves us and who calls us to care for each other.
As Paul reminds us “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.” (Romans 12.9-10).
This. Let’s do this.
Blessings,
Vickie
Adapted by permission from Vickie Woolard’s Facebook page.