How Hangdog Got His Name

Happy New Year!

I’ve got a couple of rants rambling in my head about cows and butter etc., so what else is new?  I thought it wouldn’t be best to start the new year off with my belly aching – so, since Chris asked a few posts back about Hangdog, I thought I would tell the story.  Not really farm stuff, but definitely funny, small-town fare.

"Look, there's our place!"

A little background about my dear hubby, ever since we met, it was apparent that people thought he was scary looking.  When he would walk down the street,  little old ladies would grab their purses and cross to the other side and scurry away.  I never really thought he looked too scary, and I think it must be his blue-green eye color, and the fact that he really looks intently at you when he is talking to you, (and also if he is mad :O. )  Part of that intent look is from so many eye injuries that he really has to look hard to see what he is seeing.  As my dear, departed brother would say, “he’s hard of seeing.”

Until the Hangdog incident, we called him Mr. Scary because while working at a construction job at the Portland State University daycare center, all the little kids would come out for recess and call to him, “Mr. Scary, come over here a tell us what you’re hammering on.”  We never could figure out the fact, if they thought he was so scary how they mustered up the courage to come and hang on the fence each and every day to find out what the guys were working on.  And all this got worse when he broke his neck, because he didn’t want to shave, so he grew a beard.  Beard + piercing hard looks = scary and scruffy!!  Since he didn’t have a town beard, I think people really thought he was a scruffball.

I live in the same  fish bowl small town that I grew up in, so people either know me, or know my older siblings.  Pretty much until the late 60’s and early 70’s our town didn’t see too many new people, and then the onslaught of subdividing and hobby farm building started.  So you have the old-time families, and the newbies.  When I was a freshman in high school, my class consisted of 26 students, and it was for the most part the same 26 we started out with in first grade.  By the time I was senior, the incoming freshman class had about 60 kids.   My hubby is considered a newbie since he has only lived here 30 years!  And the other funny thing, is that the gossipers at the Creep Feeder Cafe (name has been changed to protect the gossipers, and we had already dubbed the portable sawmill lash-up nearby, The Rumor Mill) don’t really know what they think they know.  Most think I was a spinster, and didn’t get married until this guy (Mr. Scary/Hangdog) started working for my brother, somehow I snared him and we had to get married.  When really what happened was that I met Mr. Scary first, and then years later he went to work for my brother, then we finally got married after a tiff during a stressful haying season.

But I digress, here is the cast of characters:

♦  Phil and Judy the husband and wife owners of the Creep Feeder, (Judy went to school with my sisters.)

♦  Al, our friend, (a Guernsey owner, I might add.)

♦  And of course, DH, also known as Mr. Scary.

One day Mr. Scary stopped at the Creep Feeder to buy a Coke.  As he went in, the usual hushed silence that ensued fell over the tables.  He was used to that treatment and glanced over to see who was at the tables.   The breakfast rush was over and it was too soon for the lunch crowd just yet.  He spied Al, sitting with Judy at a table towards the back, he waved hello with a nod of his head.  Phil was manning the cash register.

Judy leaned toward Al conspiratorially and whispered in a low tone.   “What’s that creep doing out here?”

“Nah, that’s Loren, he’s OK.” Al answered, relaxing deeper into his chair.

Judy was unconvinced.  “I just saw his picture in the paper, he just got out of prison for murder!”

Al was laughing by this time, “That’s Nita’s husband…”

“No, it can’t be.”

“You wanna bet $5.00?”

“Sure, you’re on!”

While Mr. Scary was in the back getting his Coke, Judy marched up to the cash register to lay in wait for the inquisition.  Before Mr. Scary could get out his wallet to pay for his drink, Judy started peppering him with questions, and Al had sidled up too, to watch the scene unfold and relish his win.

“Are you married?” Judy, never one to mince words, asked point-blank.

Mr. Scary decided to play coy.  “Why, Judy! Not in front of Phil.”

Phil piped up, “well, of course, he’s married!  Look how hangdog he looks!”

“Who are you married to?”

“My wife,”  Mr. Scary answered literally.

Judy suppressed a sigh and asked the next logical question:   “Who is your wife?”

“Nita.”

With that, Judy flung open the register and pulled out a $5.00 bill and slapped it into Al’s hand.  “There!”

The whole exchange had Mr. Scary wondering what was up, but he had to be on his way.  Several days later he ran into Al and got the whole story.

Hangdog and Ruthless.

Does he really look that scary or hangdog?