Oral Histories

Jim & Nellie McPherson

One time at the ranch, Jim and I were playing. He ran out the door and I picked up the broom and gave chase. Jack jumped up, took the whole back out of my shirt. Another time he grabbed me behind my knee. He didn’t break the skin but left four black and blue fang marks. So much for Jack until 1950.

At the bridge it started to thunder and lightning. Pooch was scared and ran under the bridge. We had a hard time getting him out. That fall he wouldn’t leave the mountain when Jim and his dad were ready. Jim tried to get a shot at him, finally his dad said, “You go on and I’ll do it.”

When Jack was just a little pup, learning to follow, it was that winter Jim and I were coming from the winter range. We met Taylor’s camp mover, Roy the Mexican, and Jack was following. Roy was below us. I still think he thought we wouldn’t see him and hid the pup. Jim didn’t think that way, but Jim went down and got him and packed him on home.

There was a female dog called Fanny, really Mrs. Mc’s. She was a good one, the mother of Jack and Glassy. She had a bunch of pups that looked like coyotes, only glassy (glass eyes) was tall and long. Fanny had them in a brush pile in the wash by the corral. One morning Jim rode by, and this glassy pup came out and followed him and stuck with him from then on, and slept by his saddle. It was a one-man dog. I fed him, that is all.

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