Old Man Red

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“Grandpa, you said you’d tell me a story about my momma.”

“Yes, Dolly, Here goes.”

Old Man Red saw everything. He sat on the fence, behind the well box and within sight of the backdoor. He dominated his territory. Those cats that live around here sometimes tried to bother him and he scared them away.

What really bothered him was the girl. He remembered when she was young. She was only just fifteen. Almost every night, when they didn’t know he was sitting on the fence, she snuck out the back bedroom window. He didn’t know where she went. She came home right before he woke up in the morning.

Today, he couldn’t wait on her. He woke up and crowed. The sun was coming up. She wasn’t home yet. She came running in and I caught her around the waist. I sat down with her, held her, and talked to her. Old Man Red had done something good. The girl never snuck out again.

“Grandpa, what do you mean that he crowed?”

“Dolly, Old Man Red was a rooster.”

“Oh Grandpa, roosters don’t think like people!”

 

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