The White Tail of BuckyBoy

Greeting to all, and welcome to those visiting the East Wing for the first time.

I’ve spent most all my life in the company of both dogs and cats. Love um all, but the most remembered pet I’ve had was neither dog nor cat, was a rabbit. Yes, a giant white rabbit by the name of BuckyBoy.

Now me and Bucky Boy crossed paths in 1950, I was 6 years old and Bucky Boy was 6 months old. I think that’s about 21 in rabbit years. Bucky Boy hopped into my life as a direct result of a horrendous murder. The damn milk man killed my dog!

In Dorton Kentucky ya got your milk every day, or how often ya wanted, from the milk man. He drove a little truck that looked a lot like a scaled down version of the UPS Truck. Only it was white and not brown and said milk on the side not UPS. But the doors were the same and in the summer time the milk man would drive with the door open, just like the UPS guy does today. The milk man’s name was Charlie. Charlie always waved to us kids. He didn’t give us any free milk but we liked him anyway. Charlie always wore a white uniform and a whit cap, just like his little truck.

When ya went to school at Dorton, ya walked. About a mile each way, uphill, both ways. On an early spring morning I’m getting ready to walk to school with my two older sisters when Charlie the Milk Man pulls the little UPS like milk truck into our driveway. He brings the milk up on the porch in a little yellow wire basket, trades the full basket for the empty return basket and gets in his truck and starts to back out the driveway.

Just as I step onto the porch to go to school, the most blood curdling sound ya can ever imagine splits the warm morning air , it’s as if a thunder bolt from hell had been delivered by the devil himself, as Charlie backs over my dog.

Now Charlie stopped the little truck, on the wrong side of my dog. He jumped out ran back and reached under the truck, pulled out my dog, and sure enough, dead as a post. Charlie said how sorry he was he killed my dog, how bad he felt. He felt! It wasn’t his dog. I was the one feeling bad, until I realize that if I cried a lot I wouldn’t have to go to school that day with my dog getting killed and all. So boy did I ever turn on the tears and cry a lot. Charlie felt so bad, he went into the little milk truck and got me one of those little glass jars of milk. I had never had one of those before, just seen um.

I didn’t have to go to school that day, my mama said it was ok to stay home. My mama helped me bury my dog that day. She asked me if I wanted to say anything about my dog. Right there at Dorton Kentucky, in front of God and my mama, was the first time I preached the gospel of pets, according to BobbyRay. My mama put her arm around me when we walked back to the house. I was glad she did.

The next time Charlie the Milk Man came, he walked up to the house with that little yellow wire basket set it down, picked up the empty return basket went back to the truck and came back out of the truck carrying a big brown box. Set the box on the grass and said “come over here BobbyRay”. Wanting to see what’s in the box, I’m more than willing to go over and take a peek inside.

Inside is the whitest biggest live thing I ever saw, it’s bigger than my dead dog! Charlie says he hope this will make up for the other day. I looked in that big box and didn’t know what to say. One thing I knew for sure, it’s not a dog in that brown box. I say “what is it?” Charlie says “Why it’s big buck rabbit” I say “what’s a buck rabbit?” Charlie says “it’s a boy rabbit.” then he says “what ya gona name him BobbyRay”

Not having a lot of experience in rabbit naming, but I was doing pretty good in arithmetic in the first grade, so knowing the rabbit was both a buck and a boy. One plus one. Walla! BuckyBoy hopped into my life.

BuckyBoy learned my name real quick, I think cause it’s so close to his, BobbyRay and BuckyBoy, or maybe Charlie had already told him my name. Me and BuckyBoy became friends before the sun went down that day. It’s hard not to be friends with a rabbit. It didn’t take long for BuckyBoy to take the dog’s place in our family. I had a big cat named Roger, but BuckyBoy was a lot bigger than Roger, so Roger made friends with BuckyBoy real quick. They got along fine, BuckyBoy and that cat.

Most houses at Dorton KY, are built on stacked stone columns some 30” or so high. Now that may seem like an unusual way to build a foundation for a house, It all has to do with the creek rising, and we’ll talk about that some other time.

BuckyBoy took up residence under my house. The house was high enough for me to visit BuckyBoy at his new home, which I did often. We played together, me and BuckyBoy. We ran, we walked, we hopped, we sat, we napped on blankets under shade trees, we wadded in the creek, really I wadded, BuckyBoy just hopped along beside the creek, but what I liked most of all was just holding BuckyBoy in my lap and petting his ever so soft white fur. The more ya petted BuckyBoy the whiter he got.

My mama raised chickens, kept them in a fenced in area maybe 20 x 20 or so, don’t remember how many but she had a bunch. She fed and watered her chickens every morning at the same time. It didn’t take BuckyBoy long to figure out that routine. BuckyBoy started going along to feed the chickens. One day as my mama was putting out the chicken feed, well BuckyBoy decided he’d try a bite. That’s all it took, from that day on BuckyBoy ate when the chickens ate.

One day BuckyBoy was so excited about eating the chicken feed he didn’t notice my mama leaving the chicken pen. BuckyBoy got locked in with the chickens and stayed there till I came home from school. Did ya ever see a mad rabbit? From that day on when my mama started toward the gait, BuckyBoy beat her there.

A couple weeks after BuckyBoy arrived my dad decided that we as a family could make some money with BuckyBoy, raising and selling rabbits. He set about building rabbit hutches. Little boxes made of screen wire on the sides and bottom so the rabbit poop can fall out. Rabbit poop is kinda cool, little round balls like gum balls only really dark brown and they don’t smell. Rabbits make a lot of um every day. After my dad built the rabbit houses, he went somewhere and got the wives of BuckyBoy. It didn’t take long.

In a few weeks we’re in the rabbit production business full force, and ole BuckyBoy, well he’s just more than willing to do all he could do for the family business. Sometimes rabbits can smile like cats when they’re working.

A rabbit gestation period is on a 31 to 32 day cycle, and can have 1 to 12 babies each pregnancy. One female rabbit can have six litters per year. We had six females. Do the math.

By the end of summer we were running over with rabbits. Even with the new rabbits boxes my dad built we ran out of room to put more rabbits. We had 122 rabbits, not counting BuckyBoy. Then my dad said it was time to sell the rabbits.

SELL THE RABBITS !! SELL BUCKYBOY’S LITTLE BABIES!!!!! My sisters and me, well we just threw a fit and a half. We would not, could not ever, ever in our lifetime sell the babies of BuckyBoy. They were family, those babies of BuckyBoy.

The upcoming weekend was Labor Day, that year 1950. My father announced that the family would go to South Fork for the holiday. ( I haven’t even started to tell ya about South Fork yet) We went to South Fork, got hugged by our grandma and grandpa, played in the cool waters of South Fork, ate Moon Pies at grandpa & grandma’s store, were told scary stories at night as only our Uncle Hagins could tell. Listened to the rain on the tin roof of grandma’s house. Then went home three days after we came to South Fork. All the other times we went to South Fork, we stayed for two weeks.

When we got home BuckyBoy and all his babies were gone. All his wives were gone. All the rabbit houses were gone. Nothing remained of BuckyBoy or his family. The rabbit poop was even gone. I cried a lot, for a long time that day and night.

The next day we started back to school again. As I walked out of the yard to go to school, Charlie the Milk Man in that little truck waved at me as he pulled into the driveway. He didn’t even know about BuckyBoy. I cried some more on the way to school that morning as I walked along by myself. Somewhere between my house and the school house I got ready to be a second grader. The only thing I knew for sure as I walked down that road toward the second grade was, in April I traded a dead dog for BuckyBoy, now come September, I traded BuckyBoy for precious memories.

By the time I got to school that morning most of the kids were already inside, so I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and stepped into the second grade, and as I did so made myself a promise, “ I’ll never forget you BuckyBoy”

Gentle rabbit, that BuckyBoy. It’s hard not to like a rabbit.

That Friday, after being a second grader for a whole week, and growing up a lot, my dad came home with a six week old blond cocker spaniel pup. My sisters played with that dog, but nobody in my family would name the little dog, it was a girl. That little girl dog had been at my house for three days before I even picked her up. She licked my chin. I named her Blondie and cried cause I still missed BuckyBoy, but it’s hard not to like Blond Cocker Spaniel Pup.

When I told this story to the 2dogs and 1cat, the girl dogs cried, the 1cat said “what the hell! Why ya even thinking about a stupid rabbit that couldn’t even talk, ya got me,,, you’re lucky.” Then she gave me that little smile that so much reminded me of BuckyBoy when he worked.

Guess I’m lucky to have that cat, even if she is a Calico Republican.

As always, your company is such a pleasure and a joy this second Sunday of May, a most beautiful of spring days. I sit in the cool darkness of this evening with the girl dogs asleep nearby, 1wife asleep on the couch in the living room, and 1cat walking around on the back of my chair wanting to know when I’m gona talk about the President some more. She says “ I still got issues ya know” and so she does along with most other republicans. I saw her new list last Tuesday. Interesting list.

Stay safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan.

From the East Wing this beautiful Sunday Evening, remembering a friend of mine, BuckyBoy
I wish you well
BobbyRay