Ralph

My Dad was never a person that expressed his love verbally. He never once told me he loved me verbally until he was 80 years old. He didn’t have to say the words because you just knew he did. I think it may have been his attachment to an old dog that finally allowed him to say the words. I have never seen a man get so attached to a dog as he did.

Ralph

 

My Dad was out in his yard one day when a little gray dog showed up looking kind of beat up and hungry. The little dog kept looking at him saying …”Ralph, Ralph, Ralph, Ralph…” So he picked him up and took him in the house and fed him. He hit it off with the pup right away and he told my Mom he was going to keep him if no one came to claim him. My Mom asked him what he was going to name the dog and he told her the dog had already told him what his name was. He said this is Ralph. From that point on they became inseparable. Dad took the dog everywhere with him.

 

Dad sitting in the recliner with his buddy Ralph waiting for his share.

 

 

They came to visit us in Odessa, Texas, and of course he brought Ralph with him. One of my daughters who were 8 and 11 years old at that time left the garage door open and old Ralph slipped out and the old man about had the big one. He was hollering at my girls and was acting like an ass. This kind of gave me the red ass, and I told him he thought more of that damn dog than he did his granddaughters and we got it to it big time. We didn’t talk to each other the rest of the time they were there. We finally made up just before they went home, but I still think he was closer to Ralph than he was to my girls.

 

When we moved to Bartlesville, I had a decanter set that I always filled up with bourbon and scotch whiskey just before they came to visit. I put it down in my man cave in the basement. At that time, we had a day bed there also. My Dad would not drink in front of my Mom, so when they came to visit my Dad and Ralph would always disappear to the basement for a couple of hours each afternoon. They would usually end up taking a nap together on the day bed in the basement after a few drinks of bourbon. Each time before they left to go home, he had drank all the bourbon and scotch in the bottles except one last shot. He always left a little for the next guy. Of course my Mom knew he drank the whiskey, but it was a game they played because she didn’t approve and he wanted to feel like he was getting away with something. Old Ralph just played along with them.

 

My Dad and Ralph taking a nap in my basement after a a few shots of whiskey.

 

 

He took Ralph to his cabin Colorado with him each summer when they went up there. That was the most pampered dog I believe I ever saw. I wasn’t around, when old Ralph died, but it must have been a super sad day for them.

 

My Dad with old Ralph to whom he became constant companions with over the years sitting on the front porch of the cabin in South Fork, Colorado.

After thinking about it a while, I’ve become pretty attached to an old dog myself. Perhaps, I was a little rough on my dear old Dad when he came to see us in Odessa. I’ll include a picture of me with my buddy Cutsie as the Special Feature Picture for this blog. Sorry I hollered at you Pappy.

Thanks for reading Ralph,

Hawg Jaw Bill