Nasty
by Len Harris



We lived in Milwaukee. My father and mother hated the big city. We lived there because that is where the welding and steam fitting jobs were plentiful. He was born and raised in a small town in northern Wisconsin.

He left to hunt or fish every chance he got. He took turns on his trips. One went to Oconto Falls (His) hometown and the other went to (Mom's) Gays Mills. The trips alternated.

It was the fall of 1958 and our family was in Gays Mills. My dad wanted to go pheasant hunting. My dad and uncle went hunting. The bird hunting was OK that day........The job hunting was even better! On the way home to Milwaukee my dad sprung it on the family.

While pheasant hunting he ran into a guy that worked at the power plant in Genoa. He was the plant manager. Dad was hired during a pheasant outing to be the new welder there.

My dad was so excited to get out of the big city, he had even bought a house in Gays Mills already. We were moving in 2 days. The house was 33 steps from the Kickapoo River. It was a four bedroom with a large front and rear porch. A huge yard for the children.

My father went in to his job site and contacted his boss. The boss was not surprised at my dad's leaving. He told dad that "You always left to the sticks every chance you got." "Have a wonderful life in rural Wisconsin." My dad made one more stop before he left his old employ.

It was at the company bulletin board. Dad had seen an add on there. "Puppies" to good home. Beagle and Spaniel mix. My dad had always wanted a hunting dog. He loved grouse/pheasant/rabbit/squirrel hunting and figured now that he had a house. He could have his first dog. Dad stopped on the way home and picked up a puppy.

She was a beagle and spaniel mixture. Reddish brown colored with a little wave to her fur on the back. Her original name was Ginger. My oldest sister named her.

Ginger was the ultimate family pet and hunting dog combined. My dad didn't waste anytime taking her into the wild to hunt.Her first outing was rabbit outing.

Her beagle half was obvious from the get go. She had that beagle bellar.....and stubborn on the track mentality. Dad and Ginger had a wonderful first outing. They harvested three rabbits. It was time to go home to show the family the fruit of their first hunt together...but Ginger was on a hot track.

She was on a rabbit and she wasn't giving up. My dad sat and waited for her by the Van for 2 hours. Ever so often he heard a bellar in the distant. He finally got disguisted and went home (leaving Ginger there).
(Going Home For Reinforcements)

Rabbit hunting was about 40 minutes from home. Dad drove home cussing that stubborn dog the entire way. When dad got home he was met by my two oldest sisters and mom in the driveway. They were worried about dad and ginger. Dad was angry at the dog. He was ready to give up on her for not listening properly.

My mom had all the kids load up into the yellow van. Mom and the girls had grown quite fond of the dog and they were going to make dad go back and get her.

We went directly to the rabbit place. My mom even offered to have the girls and her look for the dog.

Mom explained to Dad. "Do you want a lazy dog or do you want one that stays on track?" "This was her first time." "She needs more training." Dad wasn't angry at the dog by the time we got there. We pulled off the road and went into the woods to look for Ginger.

She must have heard the vehicle...She met us half way into the woods.

She was muddy and wet. Three quarters of her body was covered in burs. She was happy to see mom and the sisters........When dad yelled at her. "Ginger get over here!" Ginger cowered and slowly worked her way over to my dad.

Dad grabbed Ginger by the scruff of the neck and lift her nose to nose with him. He yelled at her as loud as he could. "When I say come I mean come!" He picked her up and carried her back to the yellow van.

Everyone was quiet on the way home. We were afraid that dad was so angry at Ginger that he might give her away. Dad told all of us NOT to pet the dog. Not to show any attention to her the entire way home. We were all certain that Dad was going to give her away the next day.

We all piled out of the van. Dad told my oldest sister it was her job to clean up the dog. He said she was NASTY and she wasn't allowed in the back porch until she was completely clean. It took my 2 sisters three hours to clean her up.

The next morning my dad woke us all up and we had a family meeting. We were all certain that Dad called the meeting to tell us he was giving away the dog. The girls were all crying and my mom was a little misty eyed. My Dad announced that the he was keeping the dog...but he had decided to change her name. Her name from that day forward would be NASTY. He made it clear to us that if the dog didn't listen to him. She would be gone.

Nasty turned into the best hunting dog ever. My dad said that she was better than any AKC dog. She listened and stayed on a hot trail better than any 500 dollar AKC over priced dog.

Cont.