As a terrific teenager, about one hundred years ago,
My chore was to slop the swine. The swine pen was
down the red hill near the rocky creek. I watched until the
animals ate and I kept the dogs from eating their food.
this charming chore became adventurous while the little
birds sang in harmony. Only thing was not to get caught
because I had other chores. I tried to stay kindly suave
about the whole thing. After the delicious meal was over
for the pigs, I rambled down to the creek. A hurricane of
fear crept over me like a clinging vine. There was a crowd
of crawdads and a bushel of bullfrogs in the edges and under
the ancient rock shoals. My attention was drawn to a homey
water hole that housed a sleek mama cotton mouth and five
babies. Fortunately, the bank was a mile high. I picked up
a long stick and jabbed and poked making her insanely furious.
This was hilarious. So, each eve I made my daily visit to
provoke her. After a few weeks, the babies were about
twenty inches long. Dad missed me and asked me where I
went after the hogs ate. I revered and loved my dad so I
told him. The next day, those sneaky devils were gone.
© 1999 T Leona Phillips