Pa-pa & the Pooch #1

“NIGHT OF THE BADGER”

By Jim Corry

As a small boy I spent much time with my paternal grandparents. They watched me the best they could but apparently could not avoid my being kidnapped. The first time it happened I was about five years old and had wandered a little far from the house during a family reunion and became lost. Then, as I stood there crying an old yellow Jeep Willys truck pulled up and stopped. A smaller sized weathered looking old man got out wearing an old cowboy hat, boots and belt which perfectly framed his Levi pants and shirt. He walked over, picked me up and said, “young feller, yer a comin with me'n Tripod.” With that he plopped me down on the seat next to a ragged old three legged dog.

“Where are we going?” I sobbed.

“Ta git some ice cream, thet's what!”

The next thing I knew we were pulling into my grandparent's driveway as I reluctantly shared the biggest ice cream cone I had ever had with the ugliest dog I had ever seen. I had been snatched up by my great-grandpa. Over the years to come he would routinely kidnap me and we shared numerous adventures together. I grew to love that old man, Tripod the dog and of course, ‘Gramps,' the magical old Willys Jeep Truck. Even today when I step up into ol' Gramps I can feel the old man sitting shotgun and even smell ol' Tripod as I recall their adventures as told to a small boy. I can still hear him....

Visitin' my kids is always interestin' an I do love it, but sometimes it's a mite tough on me. They all claim it's a mite tough on them occasional, but thet's jest family fer ya. All my kids is scattered along the west coast an the grandkids is scattered everywhar'! These grandkids I'm visitin right now live in Southwest Idaho. Course, they work an got kids they own selfs what don't leave a whole lotta time for me, or them neither if I'm under foot all the time. So I spend my quality time with them youngins an then I'm free ta pur-sue sportin ‘round the local terrain a maintainin my repudiation as a legendary outdoorsman.

One thing I truly miss is my dawgs. I've had a lotta dawgs an I miss em all. Right now I'm in between dawgs since my old partner ‘Buck' dee-cided he wadn'a gonna wake up one mornin. I figger though thet if the good Lord hadn't intended fer me ta esperience more'n one dawg in my life, He'd a made em ta last longer. Since ol' Buck passed on it's been jest me an my ol' partner Gramps a runnin around keepin tabs on all these danged youngins. Now Gramps is my ol' Willys Jeep Truk what I bought new back in forty-seven an me an him's been partnered up for a lotta years now. Durin' that time we's knowed a lotta dawgs an had a lotta fun.

Sure it get's a tad lonely without a dawg an thet's why me'n ol' Gramps keep busy. Seein's how Gramps's been dieselin out back all evenin' a wantin' ta go somewhar's an all these youngins is sleepin now, Ah'm a thinkin , we ought ta head up ta Paddoc Lake ta do some night cat-fishin'. Now this hyar lake is knowed for crappie an some bass but I ain't heard one a these hyar locals talk ‘bout cat-fishin less it's down ta the Snake River. So Ah'm a thinkin' , they gots ta be thar! Prob'ly big ones too since nobody's fished em down. I ain't tellin' them youngins we's a goin' neither or I'll git thet, ‘you know how ya get at night' an ‘probably won't take yer medicine' lecture.

Well this hyar trail what leads ta the lake ain't no picnic fer a ordinary vehicle but ol' Gramps's eats trails like this hyar fer supper. My headlights is a one second huntin' fer snakes at the bottom of a wash an the next fer chukars along the rim-rock. That's OK though, cause the good thing ‘bout havin' a truk what's broke in good is thet ya don't gotta baby it along. The most Gramps needs is some help with figgerin. Say we're idlin' along in low range an high gear , we should be doin' ‘bout ten knots if the speedometer ain't broke. Since the speedometer is broke, I have ta figger in an extra knot for Gramps not havin' ta turn it. So Gramps thinks he's a doin' ten whar I know he's a doin' eleven. It all comes down ta figgerin and thet's whar the mysteriosity of the sportsman's brain esposes itself, thet's what!

Over all the years a drivin' together ol' Gramps has gradual like taken on most a the steerin' chores his own self. Why, I cain't even get the steerin' wheel ta work no more lessen it's way over ta one side or the other. Ain't no matter no how cause he stays right in the ruts what's been traveled by all the sportsmen what's gone afore us. Thet's the kinda safety feature these pesky new rigs ain't got , an auto-pilot! These new rigs engage the steerin' wheel with a slight movement of the drivin' wheels which tends to annoy a gent what's tryin' ta relax an enjoy the drive. Ol' Gramps's wheels jest follow the ruts without pesterin' me with thet danged steerin' wheel. When he does hit a turn what's more'n ‘bout 45 degrees or so he'll give me a tug on the wheel ta git my ‘tension so's I kin take a look out the winduh ta see if we need ta switch back ta manual control.

Whilst so engaged I musta dee-cided ta take a little nap cause I found myself dreamin' ‘bout catfish. Now these hyar catfish was big! What's better'n thet is thet they's in this hyar lake we's a headed fer. I seen one of ‘em what was chasin' a big ol' bass toward shallow water when it run aground ‘bout ten yards out. Then another one what I ‘spect was tryin ta et thet first one run aground right behind it. Then, another one was a... Whoah! Thar goes the autopilot a tuggin' at me ta wake up an ee-valuate this hyar course c'rection ol' Gramps jest took. Ain't no problem though cause I kin see the lake straight down at the bottom a this hyar steep narrow crevice we's in like lookin' thru a v-notch gun sight. Don't seem more'n forty-five or fifty degrees of a downward angle we's at neither. Thet means thet if we keep it slow an don't try ta crawl over no rocks what's too big, we ought not ta flip over forwards.

So our wheels was a ridin' up ta either side a this hyar steep, narrow gulley til we come ta a culvert what was too big ta climb over an too small ta run through. Tweren't ol' Gramps's fault though cause he couldn'a knowed it was down hyar, what with bein dark an all. So I throwed the lever what hitched up my front team an commenced ta see-saw ol' Gramps ‘round ta whar we was strattlin the gulley crossways. We was still tipped about 45 dee-grees of a sideways angle but leastways we's now strattlin' this draw perpen-dicalar. So Ah'm a thinkin , if we run gulley ta gulley about a half-mile we'll hit the main trail right above the lake. So it goes right back ta figgerin! Figgerin kin save yer life a way out hyar.

Well sir, I was jest ‘bout ta creep outa thar in low-range when I got ta thinkin'. This hyar'd be a good spot ta check the underside a ol' Gramps's for any dee-regularities, what with the extra standin' room under thar. So I grabbed my flashlight an reached fer the door handle but it weren't thar. So I looked ‘round an found I was sittin' on it. So I figgered that mehbe it weren't such a good idea ta open thet door at this partic'lar angle. I mean , thar's prob'ly a ten foot drop a waitin' out thar. An hyar I am a seasoned gent, alone in the dark a sittin' in a truk what's perched pre-carilous a half mile up a steep an ragged gulley from a rocky water landin' an no help fer fifty miles. I ain't even got no dawg ta fetch me out. So discretion bein the better part a valor, I'll jest go out the other door.

So I hooked the curved end a my mountain stick ta the door handle on the up side whilst I held on ta the straight end an pulled myself knee-walkin' up the seat ta the door. Then I clumb out the winduh an hooked my stick over the gunnel a my boat what's on the lumber rack an lowered myself ta the runnin board. Then I hooked up again an on down ta the ground.

After I got done in-spectin' ol' Gramps's belly, I was glad thar weren't nothin' wrong cause I couldn' a reached it nohow. I don't know how long I was standin' under thar a listnin' ta some coyotes chousin' somthin' in the next draw an thinkin' ‘bout them catfish. Then all of a sudden my head got sparkly an I realized right then fer a fact thet thet weren't no dream I had , it was a vision , a boni-fied pre-mo-nition! So they was thar! Catfish so big they couldn't get within ten yards a the bank without runnin aground. I knowed it all along! So I clumb the bank ta whar I could reach the rear bumper with my mountain stick an pulled myself up ta whar I was standin right behind the tailgate. Well sir, I froze whar I was cause thar in my light not five foot away I was faced with the biggest, meanest lookin mountain lion I'd ever seen. He was layin' on a rock jest about eye level in position ta pounce an starin' me right in the eye!

Now a course I've dealt with mountain lions afore lots a times. Why, up ta the Sawtooths I used ta have great fun pettin' the cubs whilst they was busy nursin'. But when that blood-curtailin' scream pierced the night with such terror an ree-vibitration thet even the echo woulda caused a lesser outdoorsman ta go deef , I then understood first hand about a lions' scream bein' the most blood-curtailin' sound on this hyar earth. Even ol' Gramps was shakin' ta the point whar gravel was a tinkerin' out from under his tires an condensation was squirtin' out his tail pipe. A steely-eyed hunterman-fisherman like my own self has ta remain calm though. So I jest stared right back at ‘im in spite a the screams. So as I'm lookin ‘im straight in the eyes an tryin ta resist the overwhelmin' urge ta cover my ears , Ah'm a thinkin , this hyar mountain lion's dead!

Whew-ee! He's a big'un! Seein's how he was a tad bloated an smelled a mite ripe my keen senses told me instantan'ous thet he's been dead a while too. Ya see! That's why I trust ol' Gramps, cause he sniffed out jest what we needed fer them big catfish, yessir , proper bait. Ol' Gramps was in the perfect place ta get ‘im too. His tailgate was already down from Gramps a tryin ta tuck it between his hind wheels durin' the screamin' so I commenced ta draggin' thet lion over. He was a big one an the draggin was tough til I hit this hyar real muddy spot ‘bout whar I'd been standin when I first seen ‘im. Thet thar piece a good luck helped out cause he slid thru thar real easy an right on inta the bed.

Problem was though, he slid on down an banged inta the downhill side a the bed what broke ol' Gramps loose an commenced ‘im ta slidin' an a bouncin' sideways past the culvert an on down the gulley. Well danged if I'm a gonna let ‘im get away with stealin' my bait an goin' fishin' without me! So I ran quick an jumped out offa thet culvert as fer as I could inta the night usin' the moon reflectin' off the lake as a target. I steered an controlled my speed by openin' an closin' my jacket til I landed on the upside runnin board whilst hookin' the lumber rack with the curved end a my mountain stick. Then, my hands quick slid out ta the end an caught on the traction lug what's ee-poxied on from past e'sperience. Yessir, jest like them small boat sailors what lean way out over the water ta keep their boats from a turnin' over, I was ‘hiked-out' over the gulley a helpin' ol' Gramps ta not lose his balance an spill the bait!

Nach'rally ol' Gramps was doin' pretty good his own self an timin' his landin's an skidin's jest right. But I figgered it couldn't hurt none if I took advantage a my position on the upside runnin board by lookin through the cab an keepin my eye on the bottom a the ravine while sightin' with my mountain stick. After ‘bout a half-mile a what was smooth sailin' fer a couple a seasoned outdoorsmen like ol' Gramps an me, we bounced ta a stop right thar near the dam whar we was a headed all along. So Ah'm a thinkin , ol' Gramps done the right thing a takin' thet thar shortcut cause they's times durin' a pri-mo-nition when a man don't always catch the scent of a good hunk a catfish bait on the wind.

Well sir, if I hadn'a seen ‘em in my vision I wouldn't a believed they was here , BUT I DID! So I commenced ta rig up fer some a the biggest catfish in fishin' history. I dee-cided I didn't need ta launch my boat cause I had a better idea anyways. So I fetched my anchor for a hook what had near twenty foot a chain an a couple-hunderd foot a rope. Then I spliced the rope ta my winch cable. I grabbed thet mountain lion an bail-wired ‘im ta the anchor an commenced ta drag the whole danged outfit across the top a the dam ta the middle. Yup, thet's whar they'll be; right down thar in deep water. So I gave it a good toss an over she went. I walked back ta Gramps an winched thet cable up near snug so's I could watch it in the headlights fer a nibble. Then I'd throw it in ree-verse an set the hook!

Mehbe I dozed fer a minute til them roudy coyotes woke me up. Thet's when I seen it , eye-shine! Yup, thar was two eyes about four foot apart a starin' back at me. Thet ol' catfish was a watchin' us so's he could pick a good time ta get thet thar mountain lion off the hook afore we could ree-verse on ‘im. Mehbe I dozed again cause when I woke up them eyes was closer. Every time I'd wake up, the closer them eyes seemed ta git , an closer, an closer. Well I figgered if that premo-nition was dead-bang on, an I had no reason ta think it wadn't; he shoulda run aground by now! Then the ugly truth hit me! These hyar must be ‘walkin'catfish!' Yessir, our ‘tax dollars at work' must include radioactive dump-sites near hyar what growed them thar ‘walkin'catfish' up bigger'n ‘Jaws!'

This hyar thick fog what's rolled in is makin' it tougher an tougher ta see too. I ‘spect this hyar one what's stalkin' me now could swalla this whole rig! Mehbe a bunch of ‘em what could swalla this whole rig! Mehbe they'll git in a fight over the spoils an we'll wind up jest crunched inta the bank hyar! Then it hit me! How stupid I'm bein! This is plumb foolish a me! A man growed up an haired over should know better! Yup, I shoulda knowed thar was a good reason nobody fishes this hyar lake fer catfish! They don't wanna get et! Thet's what! Now I cain't even run fer it cause my anchor'll dig in an we'll jest spin our wheels til we hit bedrock. Then Gramps's tires'll catch aholt an pull the bottom out from under the dam an drown the whole danged valley jest leavin' them thar catfish a walkin' the streets pickin' off survivors!

Wait a second! What's thet sound! Sounds kinda squeaky like. Is this what they sound like when they's a walkin' , squeaky like? It's all around me an gettin' louder! That means they's all around me an gettin' closer! They's so close now their squeakin's like it's comin' from inside the cab! Sounds like... So I'm lookin all around an finally seen it. Yup, wet naugahide a stretchin' all around whar I'm a sittin'. I musta absorbed some moisture inta mah britches from this hyar danged fog. Boy I wish I had my ol' dog Buck. I'd jest send ‘im out thar an he'd fetch them catfish steaks right on inta the bed. Then I'd haul one or two of ‘em at a time ta a commercial freezin' outfit an have steaks fer life. But at least it's comfortin' ta know thet ol' Buck's gone ta a better place than that thar mountain lion.

By now though I'm woke up pretty good an realize thet thar eye shine coulda been my headlights a bouncin' offa that dam, but I don't know fer certain an I ain't gonna take no chances nohow! What I do know fer certain is thet I do see eye-shine right down thar in thet clump a trees ta the left , an movement. Looks like some kinda critter what looks hurt. Prob'ly what them danged coyotes was a chousin. Well I cain't jest leave it ta them catfish; I gotta help it! Dawg or no dawg, I'm a goin'! If this hyar's whar I'm a gonna die , in the dark , in the fog , in wet britches , in a catfish , then so be it! But I cain't let that thar little critter get et too if'n thar's anythin' I kin do about it.

So I gots ta do some serious figgerin! I figger it's ‘bout ten yards from the trees ta the water plus ten more out ta whar he'd prob'ly run aground. Thet's pretty close ta twenty yards. I've seen a reg'lar size catfish suck up a minnow from as far away as it is long through water, which in this case hyar's ‘bout forty foot! So I figger if he started suckin' air the second his head come outa the water, he might could get me air-born cause a air havin' less resistance, but not fer long. Simple fact is cause a air bein thinner, he might could suck further, but he'd dang sure fill up quicker. So I'm bettin' that he couldn't suck me as fer as the waters edge afore he blowed up with air ta the point a floatin' so high in the water he couldn't even reach it ta paddle , let alone walk. I picked a heck of a night ta fergit my shotgun too! So I commenced a menacin' creep. Thet's whar I stay up on my toes with my mountain stick held way up circlin' at the ready as I menacin'ly poke my knife toward the water. Thet way I look bigger whilst still keepin a keen eye out.

So the risky part's thet I gotta de-hitch our winch cable from thet anchor rope at waters edge ta cut ol' Gramps loose. An thet's whar me'n thet ol' catfish is even-matched cause he'll have the angle on me. So once Gramps is loose, an if I do have ta run fer it from there, it'll be close. But, if I kin stay ahead of ‘im by double-timin' a ree-verse menacin' creep long enough ta git ta the trees I'll be fine. Cause I wouldn't wanna be no catfish what was caught by ol' Gramps a chasin' me whilst he weren't tied up! Why, he'd ree-verse an circle ‘im up ‘til that winch cable he's a draggin' wrapped ‘im up in a strangle hold. Then he'd rare up an stomp thet thar catfish ta death with his front wheels. Thet's what! So I got ta the splice an cut thet anchor rope right quik-like then commenced a double-time ree-verse creep up inta the trees whar I come ta a screechin' whoah-up with my back against the very tree I was a headed fer anyways.

So with the creepin stopped an the menacin' windin down I commenced ta lookin' ‘round the bushes. Sure ‘nuff, it's a critter. Looks hurt bad too. It's hard ta tell thru the brush jest what it is, but it's dang sure all torn up an missin' one a it's hind legs at the knee. So I careful like reach down an...WHOAH!!! IT'S A DANGED BADGER!!! Well sir , it's a badger aw-right. Nothin' else could get thet fierce thet fast. It moved so quick I had no choice but ta grab aholt of a limb with my mountain stick an hoist myself up ta keep from gettin' chewed on! I figger thet I'm out a danger fer now though cause he's down there an catfish cain't climb trees! I'm a still keepin a keen eye on the water though cause my air-suckin' theory could be a mite off.

Pretty soon he dodged inta a hole. So I lowered myself down an peeked inta thet hole on the theory thet a cornered critter'll stay cornered. So whilst I'm a hangin' in thet tree again, I'm makin' a mental note ta throw thet thar theory out. Then it hit me. I'll jest get me a gunny sack, bailin' wire an some rope off'n ol' Gramps an build me a badger trap as soon as he holes-up again.

So I rigged thet gunny sack with wire loops ‘round the top an ran my rope through ‘em an back ta a slip knot. Then I reached up ta bend down a good stout limb with my mountain stick but couldn't git ‘nough bend. My winch cable was right thar, so I run that cable under a big ol' root at the base a the tree an hitch't it up ta thet limb an winched it down. Then I rigged my trap rope ta snap up thet sack when he stepped on it. I wadn't frettin' ‘bout no catfish neither whilst my cable was hitched ta thet limb. If he'd a struck then, ol' Gramps would jest pull the tree down on top of ‘im whilst I set it a fahr! Thet's what!

Well sir, I was now ready ta save thet thar critter from his own self. So I stood between the hole an the trap'n reached my mountain stick inta thet hole an gave ‘im a poke. That did it! I was backin' up quick so's he'd run across thet thar trap after me an I even tripped over it my own self. But I didn't fall an thet trap worked better'n espected. CLICK; SNAP; WHOOSH an thet sack was a hangin' right thar ‘bout six foot off the ground. Well he dang sure cain't bite me now! He was a snarlin' an a snapin' an a tryin' hard ta get at me thru thet sack but ‘tweren't no use. I cut me a small hole in the sack so's I could keep an eye on ‘im til he settled down. Musta been a couple hours til he finally fell asleep.

Now , my next move is ta get aholt on ‘im. So lookin thru thet eye hole I could see ‘im jest fine. Yup, he's sleepin. So I reached inta my pocket an put on my gloves. Then I cut two arm holes in the sack real quiet like an got ready ta make my move. Yup, he's still a sleepin on the ground right below me. So I reached up'n cut the rope what held thet sack I was in what dropped me right down on top of ‘im. Yup, thar was a scuffle aw-right. But as soon as I got the rest a thet sack offa me an onta him I sub-dood ‘im good with it an wrapped ‘im up with bailin' wire. Afore I left though, I hitched thet anchor rope ‘round thet thar tree so's I could come back in daylight with my shotgun an winch up my anchor an my catfish.

So I carried ‘im up ta ol' Gramps an wedged ‘im on the floorboard between the seat an a tackle-box so's I could keep an eye on ‘im. This time I made sure ta keep ol' Gramps on manual control til we was past the turn-off ta thet thar shortcut. After passin' thet, ol' Gramps slow like merged onta autopilot again an I musta been dreamin' a my ol' dog what I lost cause I coulda swore I heard me a dog whimperin'. Musta been ol' Buck a warnin' me from the beyond cause I looked over an sure ‘nough thet danged badger had chewed outa thet gunny sack!

Well I couldn't believe my eyes even after they popped back inta my face. Thet badger was a hoppin' back an forth a ridin' on the glove-box downhill an the rifle-rack uphill. Well, it kinda looks like a badger, but it moves like a dawg. Naw , it cain't be , it's a badger. But lookin past the mud an blood what was dried on thet prickly hair-do he was a wearin', it kinda looked like a dawg too! He weren't even honery no more so as soon as we hit the next level spot I clumb back thru the winduh an sat down in the cab.

So we took him over ta the local Vet for ta get ‘im checked out. He said it kinda looked sorta like a dawg ta him too. So after a good inspection he finally dee-cided ta list him as a ‘mixed breed canine,' so long as it weren't in court. After he sewed ‘im up good an give ‘im some shots he fixed ‘im up with a right nice stump an said thet I oughta jest take ‘im home with me. Well I was as happy as a mountain lion what weren't bail-wired ta a anchor.

As I turned ta go he asked me, “so where did you find him?”

“Up ta Paddoc Lake jest afore dawn this mornin'.”

“What were you doing up there at that hour , going Crappie fishing?”

“Nope; we was comin back from cat-fishin'.”

“Well I certainly wouldn't want to drive that road at night. You know there is one bad curve about a half mile up from the turn down into the parking area they call the ‘widow-maker.' If you miss that one you'll crash down about a mile through a really nasty ravine and pile up on the rocks at the bottom.”

“Yup; that's the shortcut we took aw-right.”

“You did what?”

“Yup; we took thet thar shortcut down ta a culvert whar we had ta get sideways ta keep a goin'. That's whar we found this hyar mountain lion we rounded up ta use fer bait. Then I rode ‘hiked-out' on the uphill runnin board whilst we bounced sideways on down ta the bottom. Then I bail-wired thet mountain lion onta my anchor'n spliced the rope ta my winch cable an dropped it offa the dam inta deep water. Then I seen eye shine from a wounded badger. So I caught thet badger in a trap I rigged up what turned out ta be this hyar dawg. I figger this hyar dawg musta been lonely so he was a workin' his way over, draw ta draw a fightin' off coyotes jest ta protect me from these huge, radioactive ‘walkin' catfish' what was a good axe handle b'tween the eyes an walkin' squeaky like up from the deep water by the dam an stalkin me in the fog an...”

“Heh Doc! Whar ya goin? I ain't got ta the best parts yet! YA AIN'T GOTTA SLAM THE DOOR CAUSE IF'N YA DIDN'T WANNA KNOW YA SHOULDN'A ASKED!!! Come on Tripod; let's git ol' Gramps ta drive us home.” Whilst so engaged we each looked across the cab at the other an it was fer certain we was both right pleased with the derangement. Cause now we kin go on outdoor adventures together without bein' lonely no more.