I always followed my Daddy everywhere. I was on his heels, in his way, and under foot always. I always loved to go with Daddy to feed the chickens, slop the hog, and feed our horse Ol' Dixie . I just loved to throw out that corn and watch the chickens scramble to snatch it up. If I got too close with my bare feet I'd wind up sometimes with blood coming out of a toe or two. Same with my hands when I searched under a hen for the egg. If the hen was wanting to set she never appreciated me taking her hatching egg.

Next would be the hog. Now those things were smelly and sloppy but that never bothered me. I liked to see them roll around in the mud and mire, and loved to hear them grunt as they stuck their snout in the slop. I'm not sure what the slop consisted of. The bucket sat on the back porch. Mama poured dishwater, potato peeling's and other things in it. Daddy would then carry it out to the pen and mix some kind of feed in it and pour it in the trough for the hog. I think that is where the phrase, A pig will eat anything comes from.

Next came Ol' Dixie and I liked this the best. I would run around to the other side of the barn and get there before Daddy did. I always reached in the big 100 lb. feed sack and get me a big ol' bite of that feed. I thought it tasted sooo' good. Still think it must have. What ever it was I guess it wouldn't hurt me cause' Daddy never said anything. One day I ran in there and was just about to put my hand in the sack when Daddy got me around the waist and hoisted me up and outta' there real fast. He put me down on the ground and said get the shovel. I ran and got it real fast and drug it back. Daddy didn't look away from the sack, just reached his hand out and I placed the shovel handle in it. I'd made the mistake before of handing Daddy the hoe by the wrong end and knew what to do this time with the shovel.

"Now Get Back Clydene". By his tone I knew he meant Now, so I moved. "What's wrong Daddy", I said. "Be quiet Clydene", he said. I looked over at the feed sack then and saw it. I didn't know what kind it was then but was later told it was a Copperhead, a deadly snake. It had its head sticking up and its body coiled up ready to strike. I screamed then and Daddy didn't have The Look like Mama but he had the words and the way to say them and I clamed up. Since the sack was almost full Daddy had a clear view but by then I had my eyes closed and didn't see the whole scene but that snake met his 'waterloo', I do know that.

Later as I heard the grown-ups talking about the incident they all agreed that an instinct had made Daddy aware of the danger. I had always got a hand full of that feed before, sometimes before Daddy even got to that side of the barn. But that morning Daddy hurried and got there. Said it was just a feeling. And they say only Mama's have that protective instinct. Heck! I know Daddy's have it too if they love their kids. And my Daddy sure loved us bunches.