Bedoggled: Country Misadventures, #2

By Tracy Heath

Tracy Heath once again brings the quirky Oregon desert and its people to you with her feel-good, laugh-out-loud tales. In this second book of her Country Misadventures series, Tracy recounts numerous stories full of humor and poignancy.

Experience the face-palm moments of becoming a dog owner:
“Considering his klutzy habits and ill-mannered behavior, [Bowser’s] knowledge of the indoors was limited. But his understanding of life in general was lacking, so we should have seen something coming.”

Relive the days of T-ball where the hardest part of the game is keeping the helmet out of your eyes:
“We had a few players that could hit the ball off the tee onto the field and then run toward first base. Sometimes they forgot to turn left after reaching first and just kept galloping into the outfield, but it was a start.”

And get ready for hard-core fishing, folks, because fishing’s not for wimps:
“Dripping piteously, the fishers reached the foot of the trail and took a minute to gaze up the steep, switchbacked path, the shadows already growing long around them. Crying seemed a viable option….”

Enjoy these escapades and several other comical stories in Tracy’s take on country life. Bedoggled is available solely for your entertainment!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tracy Heath
• Release date: Dec 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781497736757

Book preview

Introduction

I was not your typical girl. I loved my brothers, was continually barefooted, and socialized more with grownups than peers. I enjoyed a real conversation instead of chatter. Even at an early age, I spent time journaling almost every day—nonsense mostly, though there were a few poems I’ve considered trying to publish, like that Cheese on Wheels one. But it wasn’t until after I became a wife and mother that I truly considered writing something for other eyes to see.

Growing up with three brothers provided plenty of reasons to laugh. Life has a funny way of entertaining you if you let it. I found that some of the most comical moments in my life came on normal, mundane days—no setup, just mishap. Our family was content and loved living life together, and that’s all it took for comedy to brew.

Now with a family of my own, I’m starting to see the hilarity I remember from my childhood playing out in my children’s lives. There’s nothing like a replay to make a parent chuckle and an author smile. There will never be any lack of writing inspiration, whether it comes from my own youth or from this next generation’s antics.

Chapters

Chapter One – Bedoggled

Chapter Two – Hook, Line, and Shiver

Chapter Three – Dusk on the Homestead

Chapter Four – Out of Left Field

Chapter Five – Terrors of the East

Bedoggled

Dogs. You either love them or hate them—or love them and hate them. Regardless, they evoke strong emotions from a person. They're kind of like the lemons that life supposedly gives you, and you have an opportunity to either make the best of them or spend the rest of your life pulling out your hair.

Most of my life there's been a dog in the picture. We all have lapses in common sense, right? I mean, a puppy is hard to resist. And you can see past the erroneous ways of a wiggly, roly-poly pup when he toddles up to your feet, chews a couple of times on your shoelace, and snuggles in for a nap. It's another thing altogether when the tyke becomes a full-grown adult, and he rockets toward your shins because you just happen to be standing in a direct line between him and the random place he needs to be at this very moment. But there's not much you can do after you've been suckered into the dogs-are-your-best-friends philosophy.

My family owned several dogs as I was growing up. We also had two litters of pups which stayed around until we could pass them off on to someone else. Then there were those other canines that joined our lives because of adoption. Yes, they adopted us—some of them viewing us as dog's best friends, while others foreseeing us as dog's best victims. So when a new dog tramped through the neighborhood, we didn't know whether to run away to avoid being throttled or to head for the hills to discourage an unsolicited sidekick. Either way, a swift and well-aimed nudge didn't hurt.

But deep down we thought highly of the dogs that we personally owned. That depth was deep enough that we rarely admitted our proud attachment, but nonetheless, it was there. It's hard to disclose affection when the hounds are always pulling antics worthy of either complete shock or a serious breakdown.

Being raised rurally, my brothers and I didn't have to worry about the typical gangs you'd find in a big city. However, there was an unorthodox band of hoodlums that roamed through our haunts. This horde was not armed with guns or knives or spray paint but rather gruff barks, sharp teeth, and a theatrical ring-leader. We descriptively named the boss, The Pit Bull Pup. And don't be deceived by the pup part. Maybe he was still a young mutt, but there wasn't anything innocent or cute about him. He was the kind of leader that would snatch not only the lollipop from a child but engulf the hand holding it, too.

Our first encounter with the motley gang happened while we were just loafing around in the back yard. Apparently, our fooling around was pretty threatening. I mean, a twelve, ten, eight, and three year old obviously exude such an ominous persona that the dogs had to attack to prove their mettle.

Rick, my oldest brother, was the first to spot the canine ambush. Retreat! Guerrilla warfare!

We uniformly rocketed off the ground. None of us stopped to ponder why gorillas were loose in Oregon. We trusted Rick. If he said move, we skedaddled pronto. Little Steve followed suit, but his skedaddle was of a slower sort, coming from the short pistons of a three-year-old.