"How did it get so late so soon?" — Dr. Seuss
Abby the cur dog is treeing a squirrel, and she is very serious about this. She is barking her signature cur dog double bark, which she does when she is sure the squirrel is there and doesn't want to hear any arguments about it.
I have stumbled around the hillside, begrudgingly, as the walk to get to her was not easy. I had to climb up on the ridge for a ways, then around a tricky deer path to the biggest tree on the hillside. Here she was, the diminutive little dog with hutzpah to burn. Abby was planted on the side of a medium-sized white oak and was barking as if to say, "OK, I've done my part; this squirrel is up there. You come and do your part and find him and put that fancy .22 rifle to work."
I gingerly approached the tree, partly from trying to keep my balance on the rocky hillside and partly because I didn't want to let the little dog down.
Finding the squirrel once the dog has him treed is not always an easy proposition. First, I am usually alone, and as I move around the tree, straining my eyes skyward, the squirrel is probably shifting his position on the limb so that I cannot see him. It is much easier when you have one or more human companions to help, as you can position on opposite sides of the tree and one of you can usually get a glimpse of the bushy tail.
(READ MORE: As seasons change, it's a great time to be outdoors)
Next, staring into the branches, I am confronted with the feeling of looking at a black-and-white TV. In winter, it is often cloudy with somber gray skies. The background as you scan for the squirrel is gray, and the tree branches are dark, almost black, so there is not a lot of contrast as you try to spot a squirrel's ear sticking up.
All of this is to the squirrel's advantage, and I know it as I stress about finding this one for Abby. I stress about it because I know finding the squirrel and getting him on the ground is important to Abby. Grabbing his furry hide is all she is thinking about right now, and she has not had many opportunities to do this — and it is all my fault.
It is all my fault because I have not taken the time to do it. Why have I not taken the time to do something that I love to do? I don't know.
Or maybe I do know and don't want to admit it. I am told that trying to do too much is a common aliment these days. We live in a busy world, and I know that, but in truth I realize I am trying to crowd too much into the precious few hours we have in a day. This time of year seems to be even worse; the days are short in the cold winter (even though I know they are now getting longer each day).
The same effect of the sun low in the winter sky making it hard to spot Abby's squirrel also makes for short days with not much time.
You may say that you can work at night as well, and I do that. I did it a lot more in the past, but now it seems once we get past supper and late evening, I would rather just give up, hit the hay and "try it again tomorrow."
Is it possible that I have aged and don't have as much energy to follow Abby for squirrels, Bo the brown dog for turkeys in the fall and winter, and get up before the chickens for screaming gobblers in the spring?
So, my friends, all of my time this coming week will be absorbed in traveling to that tourist mecca in Nevada, Las Vegas, for the annual SHOT Show. SHOT stands for shooting, hunting, outdoor trade, and this show is wonderful, exciting, informative and exhausting, all at the same time. I like to see friends I have made in this crazy outdoors and shooting industry, and I like to see and find out about all of the new firearms and gear and report it to you.
That part is all good. Getting to Vegas from my home in West Virginia and enduring the pace and schedule at SHOT is not always beer and Skittles (I'm still not sure what Skittles are).
(READ MORE: The SHOT Show is a jackpot for guns and outdoors enthusiasts)
I will go, though, and try to utilize the time as best I can to bring it all back to you in future articles and videos. And when I return, I will strive to make better use of my time and start all the many projects I have in mind (I hope).
I never found that squirrel for Abby. I hope she will forgive me.
"Guns & Cornbread" is written by Larry Case, who lives in Fayette County, W.Va. You can write to him at larryocase3@gmail.com.