It wasn’t so long ago that my youngest sister and her family moved from the suburbs to their dream home in the country. Both my sister and her husband have country roots so it was a pretty easy transition for them – but there are always some adjustments to be be made...
I think it all started with the deer head.
We were at my youngest sister’s during New Year’s weekend when the cousins decided to drag a deer head from the ditch to save the antlers.
Then they spent the good part of an hour trying to figure out how to hang it in a tree to keep it from the dog.
Every day my sister’s husband saw that deer head with empty eye sockets hanging in the back yard and thought – deer carcass. Deer carcasses have meat and bones. Dog’s like meat and bones. It’s hunting season – I bet I could get some free meat and bones for the dog to chew.
He talked to a buddy at work who had the right connections to hunters and arranged for him to come over for supper on Saturday night with a free deer carcass for the dog.
It was dark when his buddy arrived, so the men just dropped the carcass in front of the attached garage and went inside.
Of course the dog immediately found the bones and wasted no time in digging in.
Meanwhile the family enjoyed a great night of fellowship and – when their guests left – they went to bed, never once thinking about the dog and those bones.
Now those of you with dogs already know exactly what happened! While the family slept peacefully in their beds – that dog had a party.
My brother-in-law woke up very early on Sunday morning and left on a business trip before dawn.
It wasn’t until much later that my sister woke up to discover that the dog had drug that carcass all over the front yard.
There were bloody bones everywhere.
It looked like a war zone.
And she had to rush out the door with the kids to make it to church.
And after church they were hosting their small group Bible study for lunch.
And her husband was in an airplane thousands of miles away.
Oh my. She had a bone to pick with that man!
Later that day every one of their city friends got to walk through the bones along the bloody path to the front door to get in the house.
My brother-in-law was in the doghouse.
My sister looked at the carnage and asked, “So are we red necks yet?”
You’re on your way honey.
One thought on “Are We Red Necks Yet?”
Holy cow!!! We lived on an acreage in the country, but we always just fed our dogs store-bought dry dogfood. They got table scraps, too, and sometimes leftover parts when we were butchering chickens, but we never gave them more than they could eat in about a day.