my story...."the country years"

so i left off last time with me moving to the small town of cullman, alabama. all 3 of you that read this are riveted i'm sure. rather than sum up all of this in one post i'm going to separate it into two. the happy one and the sad one. first the happy one.....

living in the country was an education. to the right of our house was a cornfield that hadn't been planted, harvested, or tilled in probably ten years. the reason being that the man that owned it was a drunk. not a drunk in the realm of he liked to have a beer here and there but a full on wake up in the morning, open up a can of "beast", and continue drinking until you pass out. if any of you know anything about beer, beast is the worst stuff you can buy. it is cheap though, so i guess if you are a raging alcoholic, it's a nice choice to buy in bulk at sam's. to the left of our house was a rather large cow pasture and 4 football field sized chicken houses. needless to say, the smell at times was not very pleasant.

i finally got my first cats as a result of this move. living in apartments was just not feasible for the cat situation so getting my own pet was a primary concern for me at age 10. we started with two sisters who were still kittens when we got them. we named the two spot and sassy, unfortunately sassy didn't last longer than a few months. sassy was outside one night and never came back. later on i found cat fur and some of her remains in the yard. i never told anyone because it was my dad who put them outside for the night. i didn't want him to know he killed her by doing it. spot lasted a long time but her story will have to wait. after sassy died, one day a friend of ours dropped off three kittens. honestly, all three of the cats were retarded. we named them sam, mo, and tiger. within a year, two of the three would be dead from feline leukemia. it was determined all three of them were born with it and it was only a matter of time before it happened. the third cat was the meanest cat that ever lived. he used to sit outside under the stick of this dead bush and growl at anything that walked by. mind you he was so fat that he couldn't have done anything about it but that's beside the point. after the death of the other two we got another one of spot's siblings from a different litter, he was already named when we got him and it happened to be spud. tiger didn't like spud, and since he was so mean we took him to the pound. dealing with him just wasn't worth it anymore. lastly, one summer night at church there was this ugly little black kitten running across the road alone. i felt bad for it because it was obviously not big enough to be away from its mother the entire time yet and was all alone out there. so we wound up taking her home. we named her spooky and needless to say. we did not know how important this cat would be to our family.

having all these cats meant there was cat food outside on the back step on a regular basis. the possums learned this and would frequently come up on our step and eat out of the cat dish. those ugly, brutish things were mean too. the cats were afraid of them and we were mad because we didn't have all that much money at the time and feeding the neighborhood possums was most certainly not in the budget. so my dad started killing them when they came in the yard. and we didn't own a gun so my dad did it with a wooden baseball bat. it was brutal killing. he would chase those things across the yard and beat them to death. as a kid i found it fascinating. one night he was beating one to death in the yard when he heard a bunch of hissing. the lights weren't on outside so he started yelling for us to turn the lights on. when we did there were 5 baby possums scattered out across the yard that had been in their dead mother's pouch. my dad put on gloves and picked those ugly things up and put them in a trash bag and we drove them to the dump a few miles away and left them at the front gate. i'm sure the people that worked at the dump were appreciative of a dead mama possum and several baby possums clinging to life inside a black garbage bag. that springs to life another one that happened as well. we came home from church one night and one ran out from the garage and ran up a tree. my dad and i were on the ground yelling at the thing while it hissed and spit at us (seriously). my dad was unsure how to get it out of the tree until he spotted a nearby 2x4. picture this....my dad in a shirt, tie, and khakis flinging a 2x4 at a possum up in a tree hissing and spitting. now that we are on the same page i'll continue. after several minutes of heaving, dad knocks the thing out of the tree and takes the bat and starts to beat it to death. the possum escapes my dad's clutches and runs into the cow pasture bleeding. my dad not one to be outsmarted by a possum jumps the barb wire fence splitting his pants but by gosh, he beat that possum to death. my dad refuses to be outsmarted by a possum.

there were several more happy times that didn't involve violence. i was a part of a wonderful church. today i would probably choke at the thought of having to go to church there but there was a man who take great interest in me. his name was mickey. seriously, his name was mickey and he was our minister of music. i looked up to that man so much. he was always so kind to my family and especially me. i was in choir with him and handbells. handbells weren't so much fun but the whole ritual of practice was. he would go pick up the kids from school so they could participate. since i was homeschooled, my mom would go up to practice the organ for sunday and i would ride with him to go pick up everyone else. i loved that part of the week. for a year straight i got to do it and spend time with him. i'm so glad i tracked him down years later. being able to tell him how much he meant to me was awesome. mickey means so much to me because he taught me my first guitar chords and was there when i bought my first guitar. he helped me pick and out and played it to make sure it would suit my needs. he also gave me a book with all the chords i would need. he really was a light in the darkness for me.

thanks mickey, i wouldn't be a lead worshipper if it weren't for you.....i hope you found peace.