Copper Dog

I was five years old and on my way to go get my first dog. A family friend had just had a litter of beagles and he said I could come pick one out if my parents let me. My parents were very understanding and didn't take that opportunity away. As we got to the man’s house there were only three dogs left. Two girls, and a boy. I picked out the boy thanked the man and held him in my arms as we walked to the car. His brown face and floppy ears rested in my arms as I climbed into the truck. As we drove down the road I was all smiles and brain storming names. When we got home we let him run around the yard, I was so happy to finally have a dog that was mine.

We have wood floors in our house and it wasn't something the new puppy had experienced yet. As he ran around the house he had no control sliding around corners as he chased me he would slam into the walls, then take off after me again. One time he thought he would get clever and take off outside our slider door that he thought was open. He found out otherwise after he crashed into the screen door that brought him to a halt. I finally decided on the name Copper which was inspired by my favorite movie Fox and the Hound.

The years went by and that dog was my best friend. Whether we were hunting for rabbits, playing fetch, wrestling, or chasing him around town because his curious hound nose took him out of the yard. I had so much fun with my new pup. As the years went on Copper watched me grow, begged for scraps at the table and cuddled in blankets with me on the couch. He was truly a man’s best friend, but at the time a boys best friend.

By the time my senior year rolled around Copper was slowing down. Something had got to him that made him LOVE water. The dog would drink water until he could barely walk. He would disappear in the yard for a few minutes, then come walking back looking as if he had swallowed a watermelon. As I went off to college I had to leave him behind and he wasn't doing the best. Copper got too sick to be able to move. Even though I loved the dog so much I couldn't bare see him the way he was. It came to a point where he was never peppy, and couldn't see well or hear. It was the hardest choice I ever had to make when we had to put him down. We made a good run. The dog knew more than any of my family because I could tell him anything. He is now in doggy heaving lapping up water and chasing rabbits. No dog will ever replace Copper, but I will see him again someday. Rest in peace Copper.

First Buck on Opening Day

 In honor of opening day of gun season this weekend I figured I would share a story about my second opening day hunt by myself. I had just turned fifteen years old that year and got a new gun for my birthday. I could not wait to take it out but for obvious reasons I had to wait a month. The days were growing closer and closer and I was so excited to get out in the woods with that new gun when the day finally came. I had sat in the oldest spot in the woods, but my favorite spot at the time. I was only sitting a few hundred yards away from where my dad was sitting, yet felt like I was on my own adventure as I walked to the stand through the dark woods.

It was turning out to be a pretty slow morning when I had only seen a few deer by eight thirty. Then everything stated to come together. I was only sitting about fifty yards into the woods off a fields when I saw a bunch of deer running across the field just to the right of me. I got excited not knowing what it could be, then i saw him. He was with eight different does and was the stud of the woods. My heart began to race due to the fact it was the biggest deer I had ever seen while hunting. He came through the woods to my right and was not presenting the shot I needed to take. I began to hit my call trying to take him off the does he was with, I was working my deer hunting magic! Like usual it did not work and he began to disappear into the the brush in front of me. He was heading right towards another guy in our woods and I was not gonna take the chance of not getting this deer. I set my gun on the rest, put the red dot right behind his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The shot went off and he took off running back where he came from, I thought for sure I had missed so I racked another shell into my twenty gauge and let another piece led fly while he was on the run. The bullet hit him like a ton of bricks and put him in a pile. My heart began to race and I heard my dad over the radio. "Was that you that shot?" He could hear the excitement in my voice as I told him I just smoked the biggest deer of my life. I never saw my dad move quicker as he go out of his stand and came over to congratulate me on my trophy. This day will stay locked in my heart and race through my mind every time I go out hunting.

Whiffle Ball

It was another summer day in Cass City Michigan. I was in my last couple of years of elementary school when I found a new game that I loved. It resembled one of my favorite sports but was less intense. You played with a plastic ball and bat, but it didn’t require a ball. If you don’t know what this game is yet you defiantly missed out. My friends and I played whiffle ball almost every day that we could that summer, and the only thing that could stop us was our parents and the weather. The game came about after we watched my neighbors play the game for a family reunion then I took the ideas to my friends. We all were excited about this new game and pooled our money together to get a new whiffle ball bat and some ball.

We bought the best whiffle ball bat we could find. It was black and the plastic had a wood print on it that made it look real. The whiffle balls were white and had holes on one side of the ball that allowed you to through crazy curve balls that people could rarely hit. We made our first whiffle ball field at my friend Lucas’s house. He had a white picket fence that we could use for a homerun boundary and a big oak tree that acted as our catcher. As the word spread of the first game more and more friends showed up. Bikes laid in the yard and we picked the teams. The first game of whiffle ball was a major success and all of our friends decided to play again.

The next day we played our first game the next day at the same spots. We all gave ourselves names of major league baseball players. Our friend Lucas was not a little kid and went by the name “Big Papi,” and I was pretended I was “Pudge.” Once again we had most of our friends there and played multiple games. We all enjoyed the fact we could hit homeruns and trot around the bases. Then we came up with an idea. We decided that we should all have fields and play a game at each field every day. We all traveled from house to house making up new fields. Some with farther fences and others that had shorter, but taller fences.  The fields all had there advantages when it came to whose house you were at. Like my house we always got lemonade, while at Lucas’s his mom made us food. Looking back at it we were living the American kids dream. Playing a game close to baseball and pretending we were the pros. Nothing will top those summer days of whiffle ball.

Flush it Down the Toilet

As this week went on I found myself in mess of homework assignments due. Which reminded me of my first failing grade I received when I was in school. I was only in the second grade when I received my first failing grade. I didn’t understand the assignment in its full and did what I did best and just winged it. Yet, this time it didn’t work so well for me.

I began working on the assignment, I can’t quite remember what it was today. We had a substitute teacher that day and the assignment was due at the end of the class period. It was an old crotchety sub that all of us students were scared of. No talking was aloud and heaven forbid if you asked to use the restroom. So I was deathly afraid of asking for help on the assignment. I began to chip away at the assignment and turned it in just in time for the class to end. I went my marry way onto the next class and forgot about the assignment.

The next day came and our original teacher was back in the classroom. She had already graded yesterday’s assignment and was passing them out. Then she handed me mine. The paper floated in the air for what seemed like an eternity, and all I could see was the big red E circled. I watched if float until it hit the desk as if the paper had turned into a cinder block. I was scared my stomach hurt and my eyes watered up. Now there was only one question in my mind. What was mom going to do? I walked home on my usual path brainstorming what I was going to do and how I was going tell mom. No idea come to mind.

I walked in the door as I always did beating mom home from work by a half hour, the longest half hour of my life. I paced around the house setting the paper in not so obvious places so I could say I left it out, but hoping she would never find it. Then she pulled in the drive way and my level of fear raised to the top. I quickly grabbed the paper and flushed it down the toilet where she would never find it. We had a casual conversation about my school day, then she went into the bathroom. I thought I had no worries until we were both standing over the toilet with my mom asking my paper was in the toilet. I began to cry about my first failing grade. My mom felt bad that I thought she would hate me for not doing well, and explained to me that I wasn’t perfect and she didn’t expect me to be. Ever sense then I wasn’t afraid to admit that I failed, and to ask questions even if it is the scary old crotchety sub.

Football Fight

It was another day of middle school practice. We went through our stretches and our running. It was humid and everyone seemed to be on edge. For some reason it seemed to be be pick on Austin day who was once of our lineman. He was in a extremely sensitive mood and for some reason a slap on his butt was not appreciated or excepted by him on this particular practice date. Our team noticed this and continued to do it. Our coaches were even getting in on the fun as they laughed at his look of anger after every "ass slap." We continued this tell it all went down hill.

Austin got to a point were saliva started to spew out of his mouth like a raccoon with rabies. Most of the team stopped except for one of the other linemen who was not the smartest and was still getting a kick out of Austin's steam rolling out of his ear holes on his helmet. It was on a jog around the field when he finally snapped, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Austin quickly flipped the switched tackled the kid and started pounding on him. Why he chose to punch his face mask of his helmet I have not figured out to this day, but he did. The kid who made him snap laid on his back as Austin punched his face mask and cussed a storm up at him. He laughed as this all happened until Austin grabbed his face mask and started pounding his head on the ground. This is when the coaches finally broke it up.

Our coach with his high squeaky voice yelled at the two with anger as spit flied. They both rolled over and knew what was coming. Our coach sent them on the dreaded leaf run to the woods. This meant you had to run all the way across the farmers field to the woods and grab leaves off the  tree and bring them back. They had to do this run twice together which made it even better. They were panting like dogs by the time we finished and our coach let us watch it all go down and lectured us to on treating teammates with respect, even after they got a crack out of it.

To this day we still share this story when we talk about football and get a great laugh out of it. These memories of sports when we were young and having fun are some of the greatest stories to share and laugh about. There isn't a time when I see Austin that I don't think about this time in our football past and chuckle about it as I am doing now.

Champions

The season was winding down. It was my last game as an Oriole in Cass City Little League. Our team had been successful all season and it had shown, we were in the championship. It was the day before the game and we were having our final practice before the big day. Everyone on the team was excited to see what the outcome would be. At this point in our lives it was the biggest game we had ever got a chance to play in and we wanted to make it count.

After a sleepless night, and a long day of school it was finally game day. It had been overcast all day and everyone was hoping we would be able to play the game. We got our uniforms on and took the field. I was the pitcher for the game against the Red Sox coached by one of my former coaches and playing against a long time teammate that got traded that year. At this time though it was all about winning. My dad being my coach and my cousin both gave me a pep talk before the game and I was ready. I pitched two scoreless innings before the rain came. We sat in the dugout waiting for it to pass, but it never did. The game got postponed tell tomorrow. At this point we were in a bind I wouldn't be able to pitch if we played tomorrow so we hoped for the rain to keep coming down.

The next day came I immediately woke up and ran to the window. The rain had not stopped all night and the chances for another delay was looking good. Later over the intercom at school they announced the game had been once again postponed to tomorrow. A sigh of relief came over me and I once again began to prepare myself for the next day. Another sleepless night and a long day at school had passed and it was game time once again. When I was warming up there coach watched with anticipation. Then I toed the rubber on the mound. He blew up. He argued that i couldn't pitch due to my pitch count, yet it was legal and he had to deal with it. I knew at this point we had won the intimidation factor of the game and mentally scored another run.

The game went on and it was the final inning. We were still up two to nothing when the final batter for there team came up. They had a running at first and the batter was my teammate from last year. I had to take a deep breath to calm my nerves before this happened. He was the best hitter in the league, and I was nervous. The first pitch was thrown and it was a strike. The rest of the pitches I threw were a blur. I just remember throwing the nastiest curve ball for strike three. The whole team charged the mound. That day ended in a picture a pitcher of me my dad and my cousin holding the trophy and throwing up some number ones. The picture still hangs in our garage today and brings back these great memories.    

Riders On a Storm

I had just purchased my very first bike when my parents finally decided I was old enough to stray off on my own around town. My heart was racing with excitement when I heard this. I was the first of all my friends to be allowed to ride across Main Street. After my mom had told my friends mom she also allowed him to cross if he was with me. This was the beginning of an adventurous and memory filled summer.

Our first trip across Main Street led us a mile out of town to the Cass River. The river had a bike trail along it with trails leading to fishing holes. As we rode down the trail we ran into the "Simpson Boys." These were the kids in town who never had to check in with there parents, and there parents weren't worried where they were. We joined up with them and they showed us all the sweet jumps to hit with our bikes and the good spots to fish. We made plans for the next day to leave early in the morning to go fishing!

My friend and I rode our bikes to there house at 7 in the morning. It was trash day and the boys wanted to look around for some new bikes before we left. We rode around for about a half hour until we hit a pot of gold! Two bikes with baskets and a "Lance Armstrong" type bike sat on the side of the road along with a portable radio. We took all of it and threw the radio in the basket and hit play. It was a a light purple radio with one cassette inside it. The cassette only played one song, yet it was the perfect song. The radio crackled and struggled to come on. Then it played. Riders on a storm by the Doors. Looking back at it this had to look hilarious, a almost a picture perfect scene from a movie six kids riding around town with this song playing. We took off toward the river for our day of fishing, jamming the whole way there.

We did this for the rest of the summer everyday. Riders on a storm over and over. We could sing the song by heart by the end of the first week. We fished everyday, finding every fishing whole we could find on that river. Catching crawfish and boiling them in pop cans when we got hungry, so we did not have to leave to get food. Those days will stay in my memory forever. I can just picture us riding our bikes down that old dirt trail as the that song plays and we all sing it. The Simpson boys were not the best kids to hang out with, yet they are part of a great summer filled with life lessons and laughs.

First party

High school had finally came and once again I was at the bottom of the totem pole. My legs trembled as I walked through the doors. All the stories you hear when your growing up about the big bad seniors, and how mean they are. Yet, my first day of school as a freshman was nothing like I ever expected. I found myself getting invited to a party. It was a senior that invited me to his house for the first party of the year.

My nerves ran wild. I wasn't sure if I should go or not. I wanted to go, yet wasn't sure if my best friend was invited or not. I slowly hinted towards the party to my friend. I didn't want to hurt his feelings if he didn't get invited. When he finally told me he was asked to go, we acted like little school girls getting asked out by the popular boy. We had the rest of the week to decide if we were going to go and what to tell our parents if we went. After the next day we made our decision that we were going to go. The week dragged. Until finally it was Friday night.

Our friend had all the hookups in town and got us our drinks. I had a twelve pack of Bud Light. My friend was drinking Faygo and Five-O'clock vodka, also known as a Down River Screw Driver. We got into the car to go for a long night of Xbox, so our parents thought. The house was on an old dirt road and a shed sat in the back. Cars already surrounded the garage and my friend and I were ready. We entered the shed, the music was loud people were having a great time and laughing. We quickly joined in on the fun.

Hours went by I was standing with a group of guys talking sports. My friend sat passed out on the seat of an old green John Deere. His head bobbed back and forth as he fell asleep. Just as he passed out lights swept across the driveway and somebody yelled cops. I ran over to my friend and said it one more time trying to wake him up. He woke up abruptly, and came crashing off the tractor. I ran over picked him up and through him over my shoulder. Just as I was doing this the garage do flung open and everyone went silent. Two college guys came walking in with more beer as we all sighed with relief. The party carried on and my friend went back to sleep on his John Deere. My first party was one to remember, and filled with many memories.

My First Dip

It was the summer going into our eight grade year. My best friend and I were up town at our city courts. As of most kids they look up to there dads. Well in this case my friend was looking up to his dad in all the wrong reasons. My friends dad chewed tobacco like a mad man. There wasn't a time when he didn't have a chew in it seemed like. Just like in every town there is that one high school kid that someone knows who will hook up kids looking for some tobacco products. My friend made the purchase, it was a purple can of grape kayak chew. Now that I look back on it that just sounds awful, but grape pop was good right?
His mom picked us up to go to his house for the weekend. I had a bag with all my cloths in it so we put it in there. I took my bag when I got to his house and put it behind the couch where I would sleep that night. We soon decided to to go out with our pellet guns to the woods and take the chew with us. We got to the woods and he put a dip in, he talked me into trying it. We were not experienced in this field of work, but had watched his dad do it many times. The feeling was awful. My lip burned, it tasted nothing like grape as I imagined it would. As we walked through the woods my head started to spin and I felt nauseous. I had to man up though because my buddy wasn't saying anything. We soon spit it out and went back towards the house. My mouth wanted nothing more then a drink of anything wet. I got back to the house and immediately drank some water.
Now thinking about it we probably were acting rather strange in front of his mom as she watched with intent. She asked where we had been, we told here that we were hunting birds, and squirrels across the road in the state land. We put the chew back in the bag and went to play some xbox. My friend later decided he was ready to do it again. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush he was getting from doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, but I wanted nothing to do with that stuff again. I couldn't get that awful taste out of my mouth.
We grabbed the can out of the bag getting ready to set back out to the woods, but it was empty. We both looked at each other with wide eyes. I had it in the woods, but didn't recall spilling it, or even coming close. We opened it in the house a few times to look at it and thought for sure we spilled it in here somewhere. We crawled around the house looking for it. How I even thought at the time that's what happened. It is just what we wanted to believe. We just wanted to find it before his mom did. Little did we know she found it already. We never found out what happened to the chew that day, week, or year. It was a mystery, but we didn't care because we didn't ever get in trouble for it. We didn't find out until it was our senior year and his mom asked us if we still wondered what happened to that chew. She then told us she dumped it out and just watched us panic looking for it, and our punishment was applied through our panic. She said she could tell how we were acting that something was up. Her method installed fear into me and my friend for a long time. Yet it is a great memory to look back on and laugh at how dumb we could be!

Capture and Rumble

All my life I was never a fighter. My family knows me as the hugger, random hugs from me always makes their days. I was always taught to walk away from conflicts, even if the best scenario seems to be a knuckle sandwich. Yet there was one time, and one time only when all these thoughts of being a lover and not a fighter just turned off. My best friends neighbor found this out the hard way.

It was another one of those summer nights. The air was crisp, the campfire was roaring in the front of the house. All the parents sat around the fire, while the kids played in the backyard. It was a capture the flag kind of night and the game was intense. The teams were a combination of neighbor kids, and kids of family friends. The house sat on a hill, and the back yard went to a gentle slope down the hill. The hill is were the line was set for our sides. Our team was winning and only needing one more point to score. It was as intense as a game of capture the flag gets when you are twelve years old. My best friend was on my team, he was the fastest kid playing. We developed a plan to get the flag. My distraction worked, he grabbed the flag and ran across the line. This is were everything went down hill, literally.

He ran across the line yelling "we won, we won." This is exactly when the hot tempered neighbor kid ran out of nowhere. He tackled my friend down the hill. My friend by no means was a big kid, and was defiantly in the situation of being picked on by someone much bigger. The whole thing reminds me now of a cartoon when you see them fighting and its just a cloud of dust. I stopped and my heart began to race, and I was enraged with anger.I didn't know how to control this feeling. Before I knew it I was flying down the hill and tackled the neighbor kid off his feet. The fight didn't last long. After the initial hit I had complete control and gave him a few swift blows to the noggin, and a bloody lip. Eventually human nature told me to stop and he ran home crying.

I made sure my friend was alright. He said very little due to the fact I was the last person he would expect to hit someone. We walked into our house trying to play it off cool, but our parents already knew something was up. We told them them the story and despite a little anger they took it well. Eventually we went back outside and enjoyed our night. The neighbor boy eventually moved away not due to the fact I laid the beat down on him, but we never had to deal with him again. We never were really sure why he why he got so angry at our victory in a small game of capture the flag. My friend and I sometimes still look back on it and wonder. I don't provoke fighting, but sometimes it is needed for the arrogant people who just don't understand.  

The First Hunt

 It was 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning. I woke up to my dad nudging me to get up for the morning hunt. I usually have a hard time getting up in the morning, but today was my first day to have the gun in my hand. I quickly hopped out of bed. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee filled the house and the a fresh piece of golden brown toast stuck out of the toaster. I quickly hopped in the shower and ran down stairs to get my hunting clothes on. My heart was racing, I had never felt so excited in my life to do something at this time in the morning. After all the years of going out in the morning to sit with my dad and this morning, it was my turn!

Finally, it was time to leave and head out to my uncles where we were going to go hunt. Fred Bear was on the radio, as it is every morning during hunting season it seems. We arrived at my uncles and they were just as excited as I was. We began our walk back to the hunting shack. It was a crisp fall morning in November. The dew sparkled white from the moon that still was high in the sky. As we walked the leaves crunched and echoed through the woods. Not having any control over this, I was upset because I thought by the time we got there all the deer would be scared out of the woods. We finally arrived to the hunting shack which we called the "Brandy Shack." It was just big enough to fit four people but we had six jammed in tight all just as eager as I was to get my first deer.

The sun finally started to rise above the tree line, and the woods was coming alive. Birds sang their songs as my heart raced, and my breath carried its way out the shack window and disappeared over the food plot. It seemed as if the minutes took hours while I was waiting. I was usually pretty patient when I went out with my dad, but now that I had the gun it was a whole different world. Finally, some crunching from behind us came my heart began to race. My dad got me all set up just in case it was the deer we were going to take. My heart trembled and seemed to skip beats. My body was shaking uncontrollably and there the deer was. The deer was a big doe and she was a shooter. She came from the south and circled around to the bait in front. I held the gun up to my shoulder, looked down the long sleek black barrel to the golden bead on the end. My dad whisper to me all my last minute techniques that he didn't want me to forget in the mix of all my excitement. I finally squeezed off the trigger and watched the doe take off into the woods.

My heart was beating so fast I couldn't even talk. Then I heard the words I didn't want to hear, "you missed." My heart sank. I didn't know what to do, or how I could have missed! My uncle handed me the binoculars, and showed me the small sapling that I had shot down behind were the deer had been standing. A small tear ran down my cheek in disappointment. My dad and family pepped me up and said we will get it next time. We went out the following night, and had no luck. At this point my whole world had turned upside down and I thought I was never going to get a deer.

The next morning my dad and uncle couldn't go out hunting, but my cousin took me out instead. It was just me and him and my new red dot scope I woke up to on my gun. We once again took our hike out to the shack and was ready to give it another go around. The morning was slow, and we were just ready to pack up when I spotted a doe in the distance. My cousin took a guess at how far away she was and told me to take the shot. I was nervous. I had never shot this far in my life. I slowly pulled the gun up and remembered everything my dad had told me the morning before, but this time make sure I didn't miss. I pulled the trigger one more time thinking for sure if I missed this time I wasn't meant to be a hunter. I fired, my cousin said it was a clean hit, but I had my doubts. We let time pass and went back to the house and gave my uncle and dad a call to give them the news.

When my dad and uncle showed up a few hours later I was ready to find out the truth. We rode back on the four wheelers to where we thought the deer was at. Not twenty yards away was a white belly laying in the woods. This time the tear that ran down my face was of pure joy and disbelief. I had done it! My family was so happy for me, and now I felt as if I was one of them. I was finally a hunter!

The reason I chose the topic of child hood memories is to help share and remember some of the great times growing up. Now some of my greatest memories will be on paper, and somewhere I can always go back and read when these memories begin to get a little foggy. It will only be a few clicks away and I can go back and read these memories and travel back in time to the "good days." When work, money, and the adult life wasn't all that relevant.

It was 2001, and the first Harry Potter movie had just came out. The talk was all about the movie and it let our imaginations run free. Monday morning came and I was back at my baby sitters house. We were sitting in the unfinished playroom with a giant toy chest and a book shelf that covered almost a whole wall. As we sat in the room we were all astonished about the brick wall that took you to another world filled with witches, goblins, and other mystical beings. We soon discovered at the bottom and top of one of the walls were screws. Oblivious at the time that they were only drywall screws, our imagination got the best of us once again. We decided that behind the wall after removing the screws was a this old beat up red brick wall, that would take us to Hogwarts. The only thing keeping us from traveling to Hogwarts was a screw driver.

Being the only boy at our babysitters, I was always stuck with doing the risky business. The girls finally came up with a plan to get the screw driver. The house had an open floor plan, outside of the playroom door was the living room. Every morning our babysitter sat on a ugly floral pattern sofa, with her back to us watching Regis and Kelly. The first act of business was to get out of the playroom. The junk drawer was on the exact opposite side of the house in the kitchen. We had to first open the door which made the sound of every door in a horror movie. The task began, one of the girls opened the door. As she opened the door I began to army crawl out behind the couch to the ceramic kitchen floor. The girls all watched with an intense look on there face through the cracked door. As I reached up into the drawer and grabbed the screw driver, I gave them the thumbs up. As soon as the signal was given the dog began to bark at the door in the kitchen. My babysitter got up to let him in. I had to make a quick move. I did a power slide, one that resembled one off an action movie my dad watched, directly under the kitchen table. I looked across the living room at the girls who looked at ease after the intense moment. When she got to the entry way to let the dog in, I made a mad dash to the playroom and we shut the door.

We went to work quietly, maybe to quiet. I climbed to the top of the book shelf and removed all the screws. The dry wall hung there limply, the next step was to move the shelf and get to Hogwarts. That's when our extreme silence became to suspicious for our baby sitter and she walked in. Her jaw dropped to the floor when she saw what we had done. Our faces quickly turned a tomato red, with a pit in our stomachs. At this point in time I can't remember if her face was worse then ours, but we didn't think the it was going to go over as well as it did. We soon explained our story, and she let us off easy, at least easier then she should have let us off. That was the day I discovered that Hogwarts was not real, and what drywall screws were actually used for.