A Dog Story ~ by Square Nail

In the 1930`s my Grandfather lived in a little town in the Central valley of California, Farmersville is it's name. It was at the end of the Carson Trail thru the Sierra Mountains. My Grandfather owned the local Water Co. I believe he only had about 45 to 50 customers. To give them service he had a small flat bed truck.

For years his dog Knute went with him riding on the back of his flat bed truck, they were inseparable. Knute knew many commands beside the usual dog commands, Grandfather went a little farther than that. People would stop by his home and he would have Knute perform for them, he would shake hands, roll over, wave goodbye and Grandfather would say “Knute what would you do if you had to live in Hanford?” Knute promptly would roll over and play dead. Grandfather would say to Knute , “You better cuss the town dogs”, and Knute would start barking.

I was told by Dan Hildebrand that my Grandfather said to stay away from Knute, as he didn't like kids.

Knute had a brother who roamed the streets in the small town. He begged pennies from everyone, after getting his penny he took off for Brundage General store and would drop the penny at the end of the counter, and then waited for the clerk to give him his favorite candy "Horehound”, after that he continued on his round of mooching.

It was in the depression time in those days, Knute's food was what was leftover from the table. My Grandmother would mix the corn, gravy mash potatoes and pork chop bone together and give it to Knute. On this occasion Grandfather spoke to the dog saying “She doesn't know how to feed a dog” Knute would back up and didn't touch the food, Grandfather got up from his chair and picked up the dog's dish, walked around the room and set the dish down, then Knute would eat. When this happened, Grandmother was a little miffed.

Grandfather got ill in the mid 30`s, he had appendicitis, they had to operate. At this time when they cut you open they give you a pretty good gash, so the doctors could get both hands in there. Ether was used to put you out. You were pretty sick for 3 days from the ether, and kept in the hospital for 3 weeks. This is before H.M.O.; today they take it out you and you walk out the same day. After a week had passed, my Dad and Mother picked up my Grandmother and took her to the hospital in Visalia, I waited in the car because kids were not allowed. This is what I was told: Grandfather turned to Grandmother and said, “How`s Knute doing?” Grandmother said “Not too well, Dan he is mourning you and has not eaten.”, Grandfather said to “Ella go get me the nurse”, she did and Grandfather said to the nurse, “Go get me a large envelope and some paper towels, I want to send Knute a letter,” he wiped his head and hands and put it in the envelope, he said to Grandmother, “Open this envelope in front of Knute”. That afternoon she did, Knute took one sniff and started running all around the yard. From then on Knute knew everything was o.k.

As a child growing up, I still have fond memories of Knute and my Grandfather.