Neighbours

It was the middle of Dec 1940 and the snow was already hard packed on the road. My dog Collie had been fitted with a new harness (courtesy of uncle Sam) and we were going lickety-split down the concession road with me on the sleigh behind. Just as we came abreast of our neighbour's driveway, Collie spotted Bruce, the neighbour's dog. Without hesitation, Collie whipped into the driveway and made a bee-line for Bruce. Collie's intentions were to fight Bruce, however he got all tangled up in the dog harness and before we knew what had happened, I was tossed from the sleigh and Bruce had a firm grip on Collies' back leg.

Thankfully, Aggie the neighbour lady, hearing all the commotion, came running out of the house in her sock feet and gave poor Bruce a couple swift kicks in the ass. This did not hurt him, but distracted him enough to let go of Collies' leg. Aggie was able to grasp Bruce by the collar and drag him away. I held onto Collie as best I could while Bruce was tied up in the back shed. When things settled down a bit, we noticed Collies' leg was bleeding. Aggie took us both in the house to look at the injury. She put some peroxide on the wound and tied a piece of rag on for a bandage. The wound was not serious, but more of an embarassment to Collie the great groundhog hunter.

Aggie gave me a cup of strong black tea from the big pot sitting on the woodstove and two peanut butter cookies that were still warm from the oven. While she was fussing over Collie, who also got a cookie, I took a good look at her. This was a woman I did not really know because she had no little kids and she lived the opposite way from where we went to go to town. My older brothers (always the jokers) had told me she might be a WITCH! She did look the part. Her long hair was pitch black with the oddest grey streaking. Her eyes matched the blackness of her hair and seemed to pierce you when she looked at you. She had on a shawl over her shoulders that looked like a witch's cape to a five year old.

Just as I was getting all worked up about being in a witch's house, Aggie shifted her attention to me and said "Collie is fine so you and I can play a game". At that, she left the room and I could hear her rummaging around in a closet. I was about to bolt for the door when she re-appeared with a box in her hand. She asked if I played dominos and I had to admit that I had never even heard of dominos. Curiosity quickly overcame my fears as she opened the box to reveal the black tiles with white dots on the front of each one. She was pleased when I told her I could count the dots because I was learning at home in preparation for starting school next year. Just as she was explaining the game to me, her telephone rang and it was mom enquiring if she had seen me down that way. My mom told her to send me home right away as I was late for lunch. My new friend Aggie promised to teach me the game the next time I came to visit.

At about 8.30 the next morning I got up on a chair by the wall telephone and cranked up Aggie's number, two long rings and two short, the phone rang and rang until she finally answered in a rather tired voice. When I told her the good news that I was coming right down to play with her, she said it might be better if I came about 11.00, although disappointed about the long wait, I said Collie and I would be coming and she promised to tie Bruce up before we got there.

Our frequent games went well with me winning most of them. (It never dawned on me that she was letting me win) Collie and Bruce became friends and lots of times they would be laying sleeping on the kitchen floor together while we played on the table and drank tea. Soon I was also eating lunch with her and sometimes even had an after lunch nap on her couch before going home.

The day before X-mas, Aggie gave me a wrapped present to take home. On Christmas day I was very surprised to find I had received my own set of dominos!

After x-mas Aggie mostly seemed to be too busy when I phoned so mom suggested that maybe I could teach her to play.

Note-- Aggie was not a farmer (her husband Joe was a dredge operator on the lakes and was seldom home),so rather than cow's milk from a pitcher, like I was used to, she used Carnation Milk from a can for her tea. She taught me the following poem:

Carnation Milk

No teats to pull
no hay to pitch
just punch a hole
in the son-of-a-bitch

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