Ruby Ray Tangreen Zufelt
We had an old dog we called Fido. I guess he[d been a sheep dog and the sheep herders had beat him or something, so he ran away and came to us. He was pretty much afraid and hid under the granary for two or three days while we was at Herm Butts’ place. We took a little milk and fed him. Dad finally got him to be not afraid of us. Then he was a real good faithful dog, and we always loved him. He’d go around in the snow and find a rabbit track, then chase the rabbit down under a log or a rock or into a hollow log. Then he’d bark. Dad made us a wire switch with two twists of bailing wire and a little prong on the end about four feet long. We’d carry that wire twist and go find where the dog was barking. We’d twist it down into its fur and pull it out of the log, and get a hold of its hind feet and lop its head off. And the dog would grab the head and guts and we’d take the rabbit home to eat. We had rabbit all the time that winter, about all we did have. Thelma’s birthday came along and I think she was three and she wanted rabbit pie. She didn’t know anything about a birthday cake, didn’t know what that was. Mother was telling her about Heaven, how nice Heaven was, or something, and she said, “And do they have board floors?” Pearl had board floors in her house and we just had a dirt floor. We’d got out of the cellar into a log house Dad had built. It was a big house fourteen by thirty-two feet. Up there most people just had a small cabin, but we had a pretty good sized house. It had a dirt floor and one window and a homemade door, and we had a dog to help us get some meat.