Winter memories

On these snow and ice-bound days, my mind wanders back to the McCoy Bottom and Old Shep.

There, our faithful blond collie romps by my side, barks and chases after my sisters and me around the Homeplace.

I learned to walk beside our beloved dog.

As Old Shep belonged to all our relatives and folk who lived in the McCoy Bottom, my parents didn’t bring him to Michigan when we moved in 1953.

Four-years old and lonely for our pet, I sure did miss Old Shep licking my face.

He romped with all the children who lived in and visited the McCoy valley nestled between railroad tracks along the creek and coal trucks running up on the road.

I cried when my family said good-bye to Old Shep and our relatives, and Dad drove us away to Detroit.

Yet, our collie would run up to us when we returned the following summer to visit.

Young at heart, our pet belonged to everybody who lived and played in the bottom.

Old Shep knew that. He licked every child for a hug around the neck.

Almost everyone who dwelled along Peter Creek before, during, and after the two World Wars and the Great Depression settled for a spell into one of the three log cabins Great-Grandpa Lark McCoy built in the late 1800’s.

Folk from Freeburn, Gooslin Bottom, Board Tree, and Phelps found their way to the fertile McCoy Bottom one time or another.

I like to think Old Shep licked my father’s face when he came home from WWII in his Marine uniform.

Dad loved him, too, and took home movies of Old Shep playing with his children and our cousins.

When Mom and Dad moved us to Michigan, Old Shep stayed with Uncle Tab and Aunt Alma Leigh to help their son Thomas learn to walk and run around the Homeplace.

Old Shep slept in the barn in winter and under the stars in summer. He never stepped a paw inside the Homeplace.

A farm dog, he knew his habitation and gladly abided within it. He hunted his food, killed rattlesnakes and copperheads, and drank from the creek.

Well, he obliged table scraps from various households populated with children he protected.

Dear Reader, a smart dog, Old Shep knew to stay off the road to live a long life.

No wonder my sisters and I loved to watch Lassie on television.

Contact Iris at irisfarmletters@gmail.com