My Dad’s Pack of Dogs

My dad has a tractor. He’s had it for a while. But the problem with having a tractor is that eventually you have to have land to drive on with said tractor and dirt to push around with said tractor. So, eventually my parents bought a lot up in the mountains for the tractor.

The problem with having a lot in the mountains for a tractor is that eventually you have to do something with the lot besides push dirt around. Even though my dad had bought a trailer for the tractor so they could go on drives together the tractor still felt lonely. So my dad decided to build a shed for the tractor to live in. It was a big shed; big enough for the tractor and the little camper that could go on my dad’s truck to live in. And the tractor was content . . . for a while.

But the tractor was lonely and talked my dad into moving up on the mountain lot and building a house. The tractor thought they could have a lot of fun together – pushing dirt around and digging holes. And it was fun, but it made for a long commute for my mom.

Then my dad got a dog. He named him Buddy (which ironically I often call William). Buddy also liked to go on rides in the truck with my dad, but what he loved the most was riding on the tractor with my dad. He loved riding on the tractor enough that once he actually tried to bribe my dad into letting him ride on his tractor by bringing him a rabbit. Imagine that will you -- “See this rabbit . . . it’s yours for one little, itsy, bitsy ride. Come on, come on. It’s a great rabbit so it’s totally worth a ride!”

Well, if you have a tractor, shed, outbuildings, a dog and a partially built house the only thing left to do is start collecting animals. So, my dad got a pony and a mare. The pony is mostly content being a horse, but the mare thinks she’s a dog. She acts like a dog. She plays like a dog. She comes when my dad calls her. But she still hasn’t figured out how to climb in the back of my dad’s pickup and she’s jealous of Buddy when he drives off with my dad! Next my dad got a steer. The mare terrorizes the steer. She chases him and she won’t let him sleep in the little barn even in the middle of winter.

The other day my dad called me and told the mare and the dog were playing hide and go seek. I thought that was ridiculous until I remembered my children played hide and go seek in our two-bedroom apartment and Bri once got stuck in a garbage can. Clearly there is some kind of family cross-breed defect.

So, my dad has a dog who likes riding on the tractor, a mare who thinks she’s a dog, a pony that tags along and a steer that’s terrorized by the mare. It’s like some misbegotten Dr. Doolittle farm gone terribly wrong.

And while all this is going on, my dad is slowly breaking every bone in his body -- some of them twice. Seriously! I talk to him on the phone and he’ll casually mention, “Yeah, I don’t feel great. I broke my foot again.”

I blame it all on the tractor!