. . . Then, there was Andy . . . hard to describe him . . . Grey hair, slightly curly. . . distinctive features . . . average height and weight.  And a "sumbitch" to get along with, except for Jody, who took great pride in the fact that he could handle situations with Andy that left me so frustrated.

   When Jody became a part of my existence, I was a vet tech in Bonham, Texas. Jody, basically was everything I wanted to be.  Even as a tech who excelled in surgical assistance, I could tell that,l in small animal surgery, Jody's talents were undeniable.  I was nervous being his surgical assistant and trying  so hard to not "screwup."  From the first surgery on I felt pressure that is hard to describe.  I was trying my best, but, to this day I remember his one hand stitch he used in surgical closings.  Why . . . because the first time I scrubbed for him I prematurely cut the tails and destroyed his stitch.   As Jody was always a great teacher and mentor, he tried to ease my mind, but I was so embarrassed.

   But . . . I was without peer in handling troublesome canines.  No matter if Jody or Kit could not handle the dog, large or small,  all dogs and I just connected.  I can remember dogs that no one would even go into the kennel with, much less take out and exercise that just would cling to me  and pose no problem . . .  Except for Andy. . . That dog hated me with a passion. . . and he was a regular.  Sometimes, it was hard for Jody to see me easily deal with dogs that tried their best to remove any available appendage he offered, so he took great pride,  when Andy came to the clinic and he was the ONLY one that Andy would submit to.  It puzzled me too.  Jody could handle Andy in the kennels and Andy would be fine.  Two minutes later, the dog would try to attack me when I fed him. To this day, I can remember Andy's eyes becoming red when I would come into his kennel.  When Jody went in the kennel, I watched Andy . . . he immediately became so docile,actually quite submissive and sat quietly in the back of his cage.  I just didn't get it.

   One late Friday evening when everyone wanted to be somewhere else and the kennels were full, Andy included, I was trying to feed and take care of him and he bit the ever loving s!@!@# out of my thumb.  I had to beat the sumbitch against the side of his cage to make him let go. Jody tried to not laugh, unsuccessfully, I might add,  and said "no problem" he would take care of Any while I tried to repair my thumb.  He had that cheshire  cat grin on his face as he dismissed me.  I started out to repair my thumb and thought, Shit, I am going to see how he handles that dog  . . . it was bugging the crap out of me that someone could handle a dog that I couldn't.  . . . Jody had no idea I was there watching . . . it was then and there that I learned that a "hog snare" can be used for a lot more than "snaring hogs."  I think my expression which was audibly directed to him was "you motherfucker."  then he turned as saw me, with Andy suspended, at arm's length,  in mid air by the hog snare, his grin was priceless.  Ultimately, we both collapsed from laughter.   And yes, the scar is still on my thumb, a nice three cornered tear behind the nail . . . and Jody's grin is permanently etched in my memory. . .  

~ David Bilbo ~