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Monday, September 11, 2017


SAFESHOOT is a new product on the market that is designed for safety. The automatic system Get alerts shooters if they accidentally put another person in the line of fire. For more information click on SAFESHOOT. To read my blog entry click here.

Thanks for reading, Clint

Sunday, September 3, 2017

What baseball has done for me.

Everybody has something that has changed them. Baseball is one of those things for me. It has always been a part of my life and always will be. Some may think baseball is boring. Some may think there is not enough excitement. If you're born and raised in Enderlin, baseball was a part of your life. Most of my summers were like the movie, "The Sandlot." They were entertaining to say the least. But instead of Big Chief, it was Beech-Nut.

It didn't matter what time of year, we were playing baseball. I remember throwing up the ball to myself and hitting it with my Bomb Bat all over the yard for countless hours. When dad would get out of the field he would throw me pop-ups until his arm fell off. I would throw balls against the silo and retrieve them until the ball would get deformed from smacking against the concrete. I remember riding my bike 2 and a half miles over to the cousins to get a game in, when we weren't at practice or at games. I miss ghost runners. I wonder how many games of wiffleball we played in grandma's ditch. It didn't matter the occasion or what we were dressed in. There was always a game. I remember my cousin Logan getting scolded after he had gotten grass stains all over his new suit after a funeral. "But mom I had to slide."

In my day, everybody got started in baseball with T-ball under Coach Mr. Gary Adair. I don't know how many years Mr. Adair coached youth baseball in the summers, but it has to be a record. He coached T-ball through Peewee. Pretty much every day of the week in the summer. Can you imagine that? Every day with kindergartners through 13-year-olds.
I still lived in town when I was in T-ball. Those early years are when you make lifelong friendships on the field and in the dugout. You also learn respect for your coach. I don't know how many times I heard the words, "You flippin peanut head!" "Pay attention you floppin twah!" Whatever that is supposed to mean.

"Baseball was life! And I was good at it... real good." - Mr. Mertle
After T-ball comes Pony. I moved out to the farm my first grade year I believe. Living in the country meant carpooling with the kids in the area. Most of them were Lindemanns. And most of them could play baseball. Because we carpooled together we were all on the same team. I believe in those days there was probably 4 Pony teams in Enderlin. The teams took turns playing each other while Mr. Adair pitched. "Get ready Mr. Lindemann, here comes the old pumpkin ball," he would say at least once a day. With that many Lindemanns on a team, the parents of the players on the other teams thought it was unfair. You would hear in the crowd, "They need to pick apart that team, that's unfair having so many of them on one team."

During the last year of pony I was involved in a car accident. I ended up breaking my orbital bone in my right eye socket. The muscle behind the eye got caught in the crack and that ended up giving me double vision when I look to my extreme right. I remember the doctor telling me, "You didn't want to be a baseball player anyway, did you?" My answer was, "I am going to be a major league baseball player!" Not many people know that I have double vision looking to the right. Good thing I batted right-handed and look to the left while in the batter’s box.

After Pony comes Rookie and Peewee. This was always a big deal. This meant full uniforms and traveling to other towns. Those blue and white uniforms were sweet. What were especially sweet were the long stirrups that no one uses anymore. Traveling to towns like Chafee, Lisbon, Sheldon, Kindred and Casselton was always entertaining in the Adair's Escorts. I wonder how many miles those cars put on throughout the years for baseball games. It didn't matter which town we were going to, Mr. Adair would talk up the opposing pitcher and say, "I heard that Rolland boy in Sheldon has a natural curve ball. You boys better be ready." Each town had a different pitcher who was going to shut us down. I don't think it ever happened. We had a pretty good group of ballplayers in my age group. I could rattle off the line up still. I don't think we could have been the team that we were without the fundamentals that Mr. Adair taught us. His style of coaching is a lost art. There are still some around who can do it but not many.

After Peewee baseball comes Babe Ruth. 13-15-year-olds. My first year of Babe Ruth was under the coaching of Patrick Adair. Mr. Thielges handed him the reins when Kondo was fresh out of high school. None of us really knew Kondo, but it didn't take long to know we were going to like him. Kondo was an awesome coach, just like his dad. Fundamentals were always preached and you knew when you did something wrong. Taking infield every practice for about a half-hour was the beginning of every day. Then we would go into baserunning, pitching, situations and batting practice. That was the routine. And we loved it. He made it entertaining and fun.

Man there are a lot of stories I could tell. I could write chapters. The road trips were awesome. I would usually bring my fishing pole along and we would hit a river somewhere on our way home. I don't know about the others but I learned a lot about life those summers when I was 14 and 15 years old. I sound like Kevin from "The Wonder Years."

We should've made it to state when I was 14 years old. But that year we only had 11 players. 11 players is fun to have because everyone gets to play. But when something besides baseball comes up, it sometimes gets hard to fill nine spots. The region tournament that year took place in Lisbon and we were down to 10 players. You see, there was a lot of rain that summer and the tournament kept getting pushed back. I had a Canadian fishing trip lined up so I missed the tournament. It wouldn't have been such a big deal but one of our players got thrown out of the game so we only had eight players and could not continue the tournament. I don't remember all of the details about the ejection but what I do remember was it was interesting. We were a bunch of juvenile delinquents. But we could play ball.

I remember when I got back and turned in my uniform after the season, some of my teammates were mad because I wasn't there. Kondo said, "I would've rather been fishing too. Oooo I love to fish."

That's me at the 94 State Babe Ruth in Rolla. Kondo coaching third base.
My second year of Babe Ruth was probably the best summer of my life. We had a good core of older kids from my class on the team. We were all good friends and the younger kids fit right in. That team was special. Later that team ended up taking the State High School Baseball Championship in 1997. But that year in 94, we went to state also. We were the only team there that didn't have any pickup players. The only non-All-Star team. Pickups, meaning players from other teams from your region. The stories from state in Rolla are the stories of legends. Lisbon's team made it to state that year also. When we get together things get neat. Thankfully the statute of limitations has passed and I can tell most of the stories. But the stories are easier to tell in person. Sorry. The stories just flow like they happened yesterday when I get together with Sean, Seth, Brett, Brandon and the others.
I got injured my sophomore year in high school after that summer when I was 15. That meant baseball really wasn't part of my life for the next couple years. Of course I went to some games and watched my friends and cousins play but I wasn't really part of it. Summers are long without baseball.

Photo credit goes to Sean.
Photo credit goes to Sean.

Photo credit goes to Sean.

The highlight of my senior year was watching my former teammates win the 1997 State High School Baseball Tournament in Jamestown. That was a hell of a game. The game was back and forth, back and forth against Velva. It was a game of the ages. I remember sitting with Brock down the first base line watching that game like it was yesterday. When the game was over I remember Mrs. Adair telling me, "Go out there and celebrate with your teammates. That's your team." So she opened the gate and I went onto the field and congratulated the boys. She was right, that was my team.

Photo credit goes to Sean.

Photo credit goes to Sean.

I also followed my former teammates to the state Legion tournament in Dickinson that summer. Again, the stories of those seven or eight days will be etched in my brain forever. Who will forget the story when we all thought Abbie Peterson died in his motel room. Turns out he drove to Bismarck and didn't tell anyone. Abbie was one-of-a-kind. "You boys better get your hitting shoes on, Hatton isn't a team to mess with," Abbie would say.

The stories from the motel were epic. They cannot be written down and should not be written down. A lot of money changed hands from many games of Canadian blackjack. A card game that has been handed down through the years of Enderlin baseball.

We ended up losing in one of the early games in that tournament and came back to play against Hatton for the championship. In order to win the trophy we had to beat them twice. We won the first game but ran out of pitching to close the deal in the second game. They were tough club.

Babe Ruth Region Championship. Off to state.
I don't know if it was my first year of summer while going to NDSU or if it was the second summer, but that is when I started coaching Babe Ruth. Kondo called me up and asked if I wanted to come help that summer. My response was something like, sure I can help I'm not sure what I can do. It didn't take me long to realize that you don't have to be physically capable of playing baseball in order to coach baseball. Those three years of coaching were a big deal to me. It meant a lot and it gave me a lot. It didn't hurt that we had some pretty salty teams also. We went to state twice and should've gone a third time. I still run into players from those teams and we always have a good chuckle about what we did those summers.

Myself with Lincoln and Kondo after state amateur championship.
Kondo would do things that most coaches wouldn't do. He was able to pick up on the little things that make a big difference during the game. Things that most people wouldn't even realize are happening. One of my favorite things he would do was choosing to be the away team, even when he won the toss. His theory was, we score first, we win. Doing this against a superior team worked most times. Superior teams weren't used to being behind. When we would jump on them in the top of the first, the superior team would panic and choke. There are many more coaching techniques that I picked up from him over the years. And all of those techniques added up to winning teams. It is more than a coincidence that when he starts coaching a team they start winning and start becoming a team.

My first real job after college also involved baseball. Writing and doing interviews for the RedHawks for two summers was a blast. Going to a baseball field for work does not suck. Especially with the people I got to work with and the players I got to know. I had to quit there because of some medical crap but I will always cherish those years. I consumed a lot of free Mountain Dew and hot dogs those summers. Go Hawks!

State Amateur Championship in Jamestown.
That brings me to amateur baseball. I have been involved with amateur for at least 10 years. I don't need to tell most of you but hanging around the Enderlin Indies does not suck. This sterling collection of able ballplayers and fine gentleman not only put a good product on the field but fill the void for any shenanigans that you might be missing in your life. Every summer is different with this team, but every summer is the same with this team. The amount of laughter and good times is not comparable to anything else I have ever experienced. Win, lose or get rained out, it doesn't matter, we have a good time. It doesn't hurt that we usually have a good team, did I mention the 16 State Championships.

Hooligans and shenanigans…
As you can see, baseball has always been part of my life and always will be. Baseball has done a lot for me over the years. It has taught me how to be patient, how to put in a chew , how to lose with dignity, how to apply Baby Gold Bond properly, how to win respectfully, how to coach, how to hit a round ball with a round bat squarely, how to get coached, how to play ring toss and many other lessons I can't even remember I learned.

For the last couple years I have also been a member of the Enderlin Baseball Association. Keeping the tradition going is important. Enderlin has always been a baseball town and I hope it stays that way.

Thanks for reading, Clint

Good luck to my fellow Bowhunters.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Recovering Game

                If there is one thing that aggravates me more than anything from my fellow outdoorsmen, it is when they don't take the time to look for a downed animal. I have done my fair share of big game hunting and when you do that long enough you will eventually wound an animal with a nonlethal shot. There is no worse feeling to me, not only as a hunter but as a human.

                Over my hunting career I have not recovered three deer that I have shot. Just to show the ratio I believe I have shot and recovered close to 20 big game animals. Two of the three deer that I shot were because of a bad shot on my part. The third animal was a perfect shot but for some reason my arrow did not penetrate far enough into the body to make it lethal. Just bad luck. That buck lived until later in the rifle season when the landowner’s son shot him. The landowner contacted me because he knew I was thinking about that deer. I don't know how many times I replayed that shot and wondered what went wrong. It was only 10 yards away, perfectly broadside and when I pulled the trigger on my crossbow I remember the arrow going into the death pocket and he kicked like a mule. But as he ran away I could see three quarters of my arrow sticking out. We searched for that buck for a couple hours until we realized he was going to live.

                The two other deer that I did not recover, wasn't because we did not try. I remember the one buck we looked for over two days and actually used a dog. But there was no luck. A couple buddies of mine found that buck the spring after I shot it. We assumed it went across the river. But evidently it backtracked and died less than 100 yards from where I shot it. I am still sick over that one. We searched for the other buck over course of two days also. We found where he laid down numerous places but could never catch up to him. These two deer would be the biggest that I had ever taken if I had found them. Not that that matters. Maybe there was some buck fever on my part.

                It really irks me when people do not take the time to find something they shot. A lot of the time you hear, "I must've missed him." If you don't go and check the kill spot you'll never know for sure whether you missed or not. You should go to where the animal was shot and see if there's any blood, hair or feathers. And remember sometimes the animal won't start bleeding for a while. So track the direction it went and keep searching until all leads are exhausted. Also, find out which one of your buddies are good at tracking and set them loose. Some people think they are good at tracking and some people are good. It doesn't take long to figure out who is which.

                Some people will take more time looking for a big game animal than a small game animal. I wonder why this is. We should give the same amount of respect to all animals we plan to bag.
                Every season you will hear hunters say we shot four pheasants but could only find two. I always ask, "Did you have a dog?" Most of the time they will say no we didn't. But even having a dog doesn't mean you're going to find the bird but it sure as heck gives you a better chance. If you don't have a dog, try to not hunt the heavy stuff. You know cattails, thick brush and the like.

                I know I am preaching to the choir for most of you, but it is sad to say some people need to hear this. Sometimes things happen and no matter what you do you won't be able to find the game you shot. But for the respect of the animal and just being a good sportsman, please take the time to search and recover every animal you pursue.

Thanks for reading, Clint

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Forgotten High School Mascots of North Dakota

Here is a list of mascots that are no longer in existence. A part of the past that will never be again. I found most of extinct mascots searching the internets and we all know how reliable that is. It is hard to verify if all of these are correct or not. If you have any corrections, additions or comments please let me know. Thanks.

Thanks for reading, Clint

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Weather Modification Letter to Editor

When I wrote this letter to the editor about weather modification I had no idea what it would start. The number of responses and comments on social media were, and are mind-boggling. I haven't really kept track because there is too much to keep track of but the amount of shares on Facebook were unexpected. 

I have also learned not to read the comments or get involved in any discussion on social media. No one has ever changed someone's mind or persuaded someone because of an argument on Facebook. But one good thing social media does do, it gets the word out.

The links below are what started the hoopla. Check out the number of shares in each below.

I swear to you that I am not a tinfoil hat wearing conspiracy theorist. I believe we landed on the moon, I don't believe in aliens and there was only one shooter on the grassy knoll. I knew when I wrote this and submitted it that people would question my intellect and would think that I am cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. But if they would read the facts and talk to people who actually experience weather mods they would have the same opinion as I. Or at least question the project.

Evidently Mike McFeely, a reporter for the Fargo Forum was one of them that thought I was a little off the wall. But his mind was changed when other articles around the state were written about the same subject. Follow the links below:

Below is an article published on the KX News website. There are a lot of good quotes in this article from Ward County farmer Roger Neshem.  

Here are a couple recordings I have taken from the North Dakota State Water Commission radar. If you look close you can see the squiggly colored lines indicating the airplanes that are seeding the storms and then you can see the storms split and weaken.

I don't know what will happen but all I want to happen is change. We need to let nature decide when, where and how much precipitation will fall in a given area. We have done enough to this planet without changing weather patterns.

Below are a couple more articles from Ward County.

But they were unsuccessful.

Supporters of weather modification say that without their altering of the precipitation in Western North Dakota that the drought would be worse. The problem is there is no way we could possibly know that because they have been altering the weather for almost 40 years. Nobody knows what normally is anymore.

Thanks for reading, Clint

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Decorum around a wheelchair user

Things you shouldn't say…

(In no particular order)
Here, let me help you.
I had to use a wheelchair when I broke my leg, so I know exactly what you are going through.
You're an inspiration.
I was only parked there for a minute.
Everything happens for a reason.
You're good looking for someone in a wheelchair.
It's good to see you out.
Have you got any more movement?
With your effort and attitude, I know you will walk again.
Anything with a kindergarten teacher voice or a pat on the head.

Things you shouldn't assume…

Shaking hands?
If you are meeting a disabled person for the first time you should offer to shake their hand. They might not be able to shake back but the gesture is appreciated. I know when someone offers me their hand they are usually a little taken back with my non-grip in return but it breaks the ice and lets the able-bodied person know what they are dealing with.

With someone:
If you see someone with a person in a wheelchair don't assume that that person is their caregiver or nurse. This happens to me all the time when I am out and about. And never say, "It is nice of you to take them out." I am usually the one dragging the other person out. Also, it is very annoying when people ask questions about me to the person I'm with. Hello McFly, I am right here. I have a mouth and I know how to use it.

On the level:
If you are going to have a conversation with someone in a wheelchair, get to their level. Kneel down or find somewhere to sit down so you can communicate eye to eye. This doesn't really bother me too much but after a long conversation and my frickin neck is straining, I usually ask the person if they want to sit down.

Stuff your sorries in a sack mister:
This is really annoying to me. When someone is sorry for saying something like, "let's go for a walk, oh sorry I said walk." There are a lot of figures of speech that have the act of running or walking in them. Take it from me, I do not care and I assume most others do not.

Touching my stuff and things:
I don't know why it is but people like to touch my stuff. Not in a fun way either. I mean my wheelchair, bags and stuff. It would be like me going through your car without asking. Also, never try to push or move someone's wheelchair while they are in it. Even if you think it is funny and you think you're funny.

Go ahead and ask:
If you are unsure of something about a disabled person, ask the person. Most disabled people will be glad to explain what they are doing in order to live their life as normal as possible. I get asked all the time about how I eat and where did I get my long straw. Next time, buy me a drink and I will tell you all about it.

Kids and stuff:
If you know children, they stare, it’s in their nature. I find that most kids act better around me than adults. When kids stare it doesn't bother me. When adult stare I just shake my head and stare back at the douche canoes until they are really uncomfortable. Kids are just curious. Adults are just jack wagons. They should know better.

So the next time you see someone in a wheelchair, take this stuff as advice. It will not only make them feel more comfortable it will make you feel more comfortable.

I got the idea for most of these from the internets and I added some of my own. Plus of course I used some Clintanese.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

High School Parties and The Lessons Learned

A lot of lessons can be learned at a high school party. Some good and some bad. Lessons that can last a lifetime and in some cases should last a lifetime. Probably the number one lesson learned was to start running as soon as the cherries and berries start spinning. Lesson learned.

It seemed that about one out of every four parties was busted. They were either busted by parents or the authorities. Most of the time it was better to be busted by the authorities. I respected the cops but I wasn't afraid of them. I would rather be in jail than dead. At least you knew the cops couldn't touch you. Lessons learned.

Some of you will remember the names like Benson's, the Springs, Cherry Hill, Europe, the Basement, the Dairy Farm, the Beach, South Farm, etc. I am sure there are some party spots I forgot to add. It didn't seem to matter where the party was, if it was an outside party these things were going to happen. There was going to be a bonfire, someone was going to get stuck, a girl was going to end up crying and a couple guys were going to get into a fight. Lessons learned.

I was usually the youngest at most of these parties, in the beginning anyway. Being the youngest, my job was always getting firewood. Bob told me. I remember this one time at the Springs I showed up with a couple buddies in the Chevy Cavalier a.k.a., The Duck. I soon realized that my dad's 79 Chevrolet Silverado was there. Evidently my sister was home from college and took old green to the party. Anyway it was my job to get firewood so I got the keys from her and borrowed someone's tow rope to pull out dead trees for the party. I didn't feel like picking up sticks. Go big or go home. That was a heck of a bonfire. I believe that tow rope ended up getting snapped. I jerked a little hard. Whoops. Lesson learned.

If we were lucky someone's parents would be gone and there would be a house party. Well, it would be lucky for the partygoers. Not so much for the party host. The cleanup and explaining sucks. Lessons learned.

I remember making a special trip to Casselton just pick up a case of this stuff just because somebody knew a guy, who knew a guy who had some. Good grief. Lesson learned.

I remember picking up cigarette butts in my friend's driveway Sunday morning after a two-day rager at his house. I believe his parents went to Hawaii or somewhere and were too trusting. Friday night's party was pretty low-key. But the word got spread about the party the next night. You see his older sister came home late Saturday night unexpectedly and she was not too impressed with our idea of a little party. Evidently she heard things through friends at college. I remember looking outside at all the cars and thinking this isn't going to end well. That was a fun weekend. I remember his sister even made us breakfast after we cleaned up everything, including hundreds of cigarette butts on the driveway. There are some top-secret good stories from that weekend. Lessons learned.

If none of these party places turned out we could always go to Lisbon to drag main and pick up some chicks. Or at least that was the plan. There was nothing better than going to another town, hitting on girls and upsetting their boyfriends. When we went to their town or when they came to our town things were going to happen. Back then, Lisbon and Enderlin guys were like water and oil. We didn't mix well. Lessons learned.

It seemed like there was always trouble when you went to the Lisbon theater to watch the weekend movie. I wonder whatever happened to those couches that were in the front down by the screen. Ewww… Some lessons I wish I never learned.

Going to Lisbon also meant that you were eventually going to get into trouble with the Mexi cop. It seems like every time we went to Lisbon someone was getting pulled over or getting scolded by the cops. Not that they didn't have their reasons but geesh, give the guy a break. Lesson learned.

This one time in Lisbon one of my buddies decided to take his car on the racetrack for a couple of hot laps. It sounded like a great idea at the time. That was fun for about five minutes until we heard sirens. Some of us made it out in time. Some of us didn't. Good times. Lesson learned.

Another good idea when going to Lisbon is trying to see how high you can make it up the hill. You know the one, the hill on the East side of the 32 coming into Lisbon from the North. There are usually tire tracks going up to the top. I think I rode with someone once. That was enough for me. Lesson learned.

Anyway, I don't know if high schoolers still party like that anymore but I hope they do. We never really got into too much trouble. We never hurt anyone or hurt anything. Well except for our vehicles and our pride. But I know a couple thing, we made a lot of great memories and a lot lessons learned…

Thanks for reading, Clint

Monday, July 10, 2017

Pets and things

I have had three pets that have been meaningful in my life. There were a couple other dogs in between but they didn't last long for one reason or another…

The first dog we ever had was named Morky. He was a cross between everything, a mutt. His mother was a dachshund terrier and his father was a poodle spaniel. Or maybe that was the other way around. Anyway, he was unique. He was kind of a lap dog.

We had him when we were still living in town and brought him to the country when we moved. Morky and I were pretty inseparable. Wherever I went, he went. When my parents couldn't find me they would yell for the dog and the dog would give my whereabouts away. I remember him being quite feisty also. He protected me on many occasions from scary neighborhood dogs and older douche canoe kids.

Morky only lasted a short while out at the farm. He got along with the other dog and cats. But the one thing he did not get along with was the school bus. That school bus got a lot of our pets and was the demise of Morky one afternoon after we got dropped off.

There were quite a few years between Morky and our next permanent dog. There were two or three other dogs in between that didn't turn out. They somehow miraculously disappeared…

I got a chocolate lab when I was a senior in high school from a cousin whose labs had a litter. I believe the whole litter was either given to family or friends around Enderlin. When I first saw my lab I knew right away I was going to call him Lloyd Christmas. If you don't know, that is the main character in Dumb & Dumber. Have you ever named a pet after someone and later realized that animal has morphed in to that character? I am not saying he was dumb, I'm just saying he was not Lassie.

Lloyd was a big clumsy yet agile brute of a dog. He was around 100 pounds and for some reason he still thought he could sit on your lap like was a puppy. His paws were like a Clydesdale's and he was as graceful as an ox. He would also eat anything. One time he ate an entire frozen ring of deer sausage. Another time he swallowed a plastic plate filled with shrimp mousse that had cellophane wrapped around it. Neither of those things seemed to bother him either. He had an iron stomach.

The first time we took Lloyd to West Silent Lake, he spotted some loons as soon as we got to the cabin. He took off down the steps and jumped off the end of the dock only to realize he could not touch. You see he was used to the sloughs around our farmstead where he could touch and breathe. I didn't think a dog could drown but he tried to. Good thing my brother-in-law was there to save him. It was quite the scene watching a 100 pound lab doggie paddle on top of his rescuers head. They finally made it to shore and after a couple hours he figured out how to swim. Then he started swimming after the loons. Never did catch one though. I believe that was the last time we took him to the lake.

He was also tough. I remember getting ready for school and I heard my dad take off with the pickup out to the field. Pretty soon I heard the pickup back in the yard and dad said that Lloyd had gotten run over. Lloyd not only got ran over by the pickup but also by the anhydrous tank trailer that was getting pulled behind. They are not light. The only injuries he suffered were a collapsed lung and a broken tail. Within a week he was back to his old self. Well except for half of his tail. It had to get docked.

I think I had him for about six years. Every once in a while he would take off to the neighbors a couple miles to the West. They had a lab that always seemed to be in heat. It didn't matter the time of year. And evidently Lloyd was twitterpated with her scent. One of the times he left the yard and he did not come back. Do not know what happened to him. Could've been coyotes or maybe just got ran over. Anyway, there will never be another Lloyd. He was one-of-a-kind.

That brings us to my current dog, Otis the Beagle. I got him in 2008. A cousin of mine had a friend who was moving and could not bring Otis with. So my cousin knew that I had always wanted a Beagle and delivered him to me from Bismarck.

Beagles are very loyal and notoriously stubborn. They can have quite the attitude. Otis is no exception. He is sometimes an asshole. But he is cute so he gets away with it. He pretty much had the run of the house for the first few years. He would sleep wherever he wanted. It was usually with me. This got cut short a couple years ago when his back got hurt from jumping off too many high objects.

When I am outside, I am usually with Otis. I came up with an apparatus where he can be attached to my chair without getting wound up by a leash. We go everywhere together whether it's chasing vermin around the yard, checking the shelter belts for deer sign or scouting deer down the driveways. He has quite the nose. When he gets on a scent, his head stays down until he finds the source. It is a struggle to get him away from sniffing. I swear one of these times he is going to pull my chair over.

We have lost him a couple times or I should say he has gotten away from us a couple times but there is always an easy way to find a Beagle. Just wait for him to start baying. It usually doesn't take long before he has treed something or cornered something and that is when the noise starts. There aren't too many sounds like a baying Beagle.

When Otis is gone I don't know if I will ever get another dog. But I've said that before. There's just something about having a dog around that makes life better.

On second thought, I would get another lab…

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

What I would do if I could for a day...

I would skip a rock.
I would grill a steak.
I would go for a swim.
I would feel the sun.
I would give you a hug.
I would ride bike.
I would cry.
I would roll in the hay.
I would shake your hand, firmly.
I would stretch out.
I would be happy.
I would be different.
I would slap a gap and slide into 2nd.
I would touch my toes.
I would give you the finger.
I would feel the rain.
I would mow lawn.
I would ride horse.
I would cast a line.
I would laugh.
I would hold your hand.
I would kick a tire.
I would run.
I would wave hello.
I would drive a vehicle, real fast.
I would throw a baseball.
I would work cows.
I would go up and down steps.
I would push your chair in.
I would climb a mountain.
I would snap my fingers.
I would clean a fish.
I would do what I want.
I would help you with anything.
I would two-step.
I would eat a taco.
I would feel the trigger.
I would draw a picture.
I would never let go.
I would open the door for you.
I would punch someone.
I would walk the dog.
I would put in a chew.
I would probably get punched.
I would build something.
I would work hard and sweat.
I would be the same.
I would wave goodbye.
I would do all that in one day…
--Clint Lindemann