One day my uncle Bill called wanting to go fishing at a local farm pond. I agreed to go and told him I'd drive so I could take my little beagle, "M.R." with me. I threw my gear in the truck, put M.R. in the cab with me and went to fetch Unlce Bill. We then headed to a local live bait shop located behind the home of an older gentleman named Jake Middleton. Jake was one of those fellows who was big and loud, had never met a stranger, and always had a big story or two waiting for you. He was a hoot to talk to.
Bill and I got out and walked back the driveway to the garage where Jakes Bait Shop was located, leaving M.R. in the cab of my pickup truck. (It wasn't hot so he was in no danger.) Jake came out to meet us and quickly began telling some big yarn as he was showing us his selection of worms, crickets, minnows and such. I guess we'd been there for about five minutes when M.R. stood up on the steering wheel looking for us and managed to blow the horn several times.
Old Jake looked out at my truck then at me and asked, "Is there a kid in your truck?" to which I replied, "No, just my dog." I could see the confused look on his face as I answered him. He studied what I'd said for just a moment and then asked me, "Does he always blow the horn like that?"
I couldn't resist the chance to B.S. a master B.S.er just a little. I replied "No, just when he's in a hurry to go fishing."
Jake just shook his head, took my money and walked back into the house muttering to himself "beats anything I ever seen" as Uncle Bill and I headed back to the truck choking back the laughter. Phil
