April's Featured Appalachian!

Greetings Hillfolk!

     I'm going to start this one with a warning. This one is sad. I'm already torn up just thinking about it, but I would still like to share this Appalachian's life and legacy with you because she was such a major part of my Appalachian experience. I'm going to tell you about an Appalachian whose birthday would have been this month. Without further ado, here's the story of Yodie.

     

     When I was in elementary school, my mother took some sort of pure-bred wild hair and started collecting Boston Terriers. That's an exaggeration. Her co-worker gave her a Boston named Popeye, and a few years later we bought Yodie. Yodie was the alpha pretty much from the start, and she beat up Popeye frequently. She would beat up anything. This story spans almost two decades, so these events are not chronological, but they'll warrant a few chuckles, I'm sure. 

     Aside from beating up Popeye, she would also try to beat up anything and anyone that came in our yard. She ran around with a slight limp, and this is because she took on a tractor and injured her hip. Territorial isn't an adequate word here. She was a dog obsessed. She had some sort of sixth sense that alerted her to the happenings of all four corners of the yard. If you encroached on her territory, you paid with your life (or your pants leg, depending on your size). 

     Being the loyal, bat-faced terror that she was, she always shared her spoils of her war on nature with her masters. On many, many, MANY, occasions, we walked outside to find the remnants of birds, rats, moles, rabbits, and anything else that she could catch. Her thirst for blood made me look like a jerk, because I was the crazy lady throwing rocks at rabbits and cornering the neighbors' chickens because I wanted to spare them. My sister and I once spent a whole day chasing someone's half-tame, released rabbit because it kept coming into our yard. I'm not in shape, but thankfully, neither was that pet rabbit. 

My worst enemy. 

 

     I wish that wascally wabbits were the least of our worries with Yodie. One of my favorite Yodie stories is the one about a very unfortunate groundhog. In areas with few natural predators, (my neighborhood isn't exactly crawling with hawks or coyotes), groundhogs can weigh up to 30 pounds. Bostons usually get to around 25 pounds, but females (i.e. Yodie) tend to be smaller. Being a dog fueled by bloodlust and no access to Wikipedia, Yodie did not consider this, so she took on the groundhog anyway. She chased it under the porch where I assume a cartoon fight cloud ensued.

They have clip-art for literally everything. 

   

     This is where it gets really Appalachian. This groundhog outweighed Yodie, but she would literally fight it to the death, so my parents decided to intervene with what was the most hilarious case of almost manslaughter ever. My dad put on his hillbilly thinking-cap (his only thinking-cap) and decided that the only way to approach this was to have my mother spray the hose under the porch, to flush the offending woodchuck out, and he would be standing ready with his rifle. Take a moment to let this scenario sink in. Groundhog/dog fight, water hose, a loaded firearm. I couldn't make this stuff up. 

    

      My mom, who is notoriously afraid of all wild animals, sprayed the hose under the porch in hopes the groundhog would run out the other side where my dad stood ready, finger on the trigger. In reality, the groundhog ran out the side where my mom was, where she proceeded to scream and flail and spray my armed father with a water hose, and Yodie was still not through with the groundhog. Eventually, the groundhog was dealt with, and Yodie suffered only a few scratches. In summary, my dad almost shot my mom over a water hose and a groundhog. 

     Another time Yodie got banged up defending our property is when my brother's four-wheeler was stolen. I was home alone, and asleep in my room. When everyone got home, they couldn't understand why the four-wheeler was gone. Had a relative borrowed it? What was going on? While inspecting the shed, they noticed Yodie was limping and sore, and this is what led us to the conclusion of a stolen four-wheeler and an attack on our dog. These were injuries she sustained trying to defend her family. As much as I would have liked for her to leave the rabbits and chickens and cats alone, I realize now that everything she did, she did because it was her way of trying to keep us safe. 

     As fearless as she was when it came to intruders, her one weakness was thunder. Yodie was horribly gun-shy, and the reason is Popeye's love of firecrackers. He loved those little snapping ones that you throw on the ground, he loved the ones that went off in a series, and he was just wild on the Fourth of July. Yodie was still a puppy on her first July 4th celebration, and apparently the onslaught of firecrackers didn't amuse her like they did Popeye. I spent countless summer evenings sitting with her on the porch, because she was so terrified of thunder. We couldn't let her in the house because of the cats, so I would just sit with her as long as I could. She had a heated dog house, and after awhile, she'd always go burrow into her blankets, but I tried to comfort her for a bit.

Taken during a thunderstorm.

     When I was in middle school, Popeye got a bowel obstruction that required surgery. He did bounce back from it, and he died a few weeks later from a suspected stroke. For the remaining 8 years of her life, Yodie would still jump up and look around if you said his name. (Are you weeping yet?) They had a litter of puppies several years ago. I still see one occasionally. Her name is Lucy and she was adopted by my mom's uncle.

My sister, myself, and our infestation of Boston Terriers.

     We had Yodie for 14 years. In the last year, she seemed to go blind and deaf at the same time. She required soft food, and she started to wonder off on the rare days she was able to leave her bed. She was put down last summer following an injury that I won't even describe. We buried her next to Popeye. I try to avoid being philosophical about death, but I think it's fitting that she got to become a part of the land she spent her whole life protecting. Thanks for reading. 

Do you have a pet that's helped to shape your life in Appalachia? Do you have a relative or friend that would like to see as a Featured Appalachian? I'd love to hear about it at mountainbloodwv@gmail.com