G.B. Madison

G.B. Madison
The Wild Ol' Okie Boy

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

LONDON'S TRAVAIL page 47

G.B. popped in to see if all was as it should be, and then he asked, "Have y'all explored the Indian ruin yet? No? Oh y'all would enjoy it. I don't have time to mess with it now, I'm fixin' to leave. But it's just past the big mesa yonder. There's a trail leadin' up the next hill an' it's up on top. But y'all take the car now, it's a long walk over yonder, carryin' water fer y'all and fer y'all's dawg."

G.B. lit fires of curiosity with that comment, so the next day, carrying water London and I headed across "yonder" . . . afoot.

I was accustomed to walking - it would not take long. It was not far as the owl flew but I was wearing thongs in the area of a cholla jungle. Necessity demanded a devious route, unless I planned on cholla acupunture.




"Hot London!" Too late, a cholla segment caught on his flank and nestled tightly into his fur. "Stay London." Instead he sat.



The movement involved in sitting allowed the barbed spines to pierce his skin. Abruptly and frantically he swung his head and took the vile thing into his soft fleshy mouth, where spines imbedded themselves.

It broke my heart to see him suffering and confused. Wanting to help, I grabbed a twig and tried to flick the cholla segment from his flank, instead I only managed to roll it deeper into his long fur. I needed more than a twig to help him. We had to get back to the trailer.


London endured extreme pain during the long hot walk home to the butte. Every time I looked at him with what appeared to be a mouthful of porcupine quills, my heart hurt and I thought of G.B.'s instructions, "Take the car!"


As soon as we reached the top of the butte I sat London in the shade of the trailer with a bucket of water. I settled myself on the ground in front of him with scissors, a pair of pliers and a metal bowl. I talked to London incessantly and cradled his head while I cut the fur and the cholla from his flank', and with the pliers I pulled out spines I could see in the short stubble of newly cut fur.

I did not know what to expect when I started on his mouth, but he understood I was going to help him. He whined and we cried while I removed hundreds of barbed spines from his lips, his gums and his tongue.

After more than an hour and a half, I was almost finished. There were two spines left in his bottom lip. I went for one and as soon as I pulled it out, he growled. I reached for the last one. London looked me in the eye and gave one commanding bark, "NO MORE!"

London rose with his head held high and with one large spine protruding from his bottom lip like a badge of courage, he trotted across the butte to "water a cactus."

G.B. and the Strange Canadian Painter Lady

by Charlotte Madison and Nana Cook copyright 1994


No comments: