by: Eddie Trapp
Back in the Eighties we had a bulldog with the creative name of "Bull." He is mentioned several times in previous articles and was almost one of the family. Caught lots of hogs for me when I hunted around Emblem, Horton, Lost Ridge, and Klondike. I bought him off Buddie Smith, who lives in the Longridge Community, near East Delta. We never did find out his breeding by he looked like a pit bull and American Bulldog cross. A very friendly dog that our four kids wrestled with when they ranged from ten to fifteen years old. He went with us once to cut a Christmas tree in the cedar thicket where the Brushy Mound road turns north off 895 there at the Jeff Goldsmith corner. I was on my side under the tree. Low limbs in my way and hindering my saw. Here came Bull right in under there with me laying on his side like he was trying to help. Jean got a picture of us.
Friday, April 5, 1985. We bought a camper trailer and wanted to try it out. After school we loaded all of our gear and drove to my grandmother's lake south of Paris. Set up camp and had a big time. Bull really had fun chasing blackbirds in the cattails, jumping at fishing lures as we cast, and coming up in the camper when we left the door open. He was a big dog and the kids would sometimes ride him a short distance before they mashed him to the ground. Sunday morning we caught a lot of big bream and threw most of them back. One or two were given to Bull and he carried them around in his mouth playing with them.
April 7, 1985. Easter Sunday. We all went to church at East Delta then came home and changed clothes before going to Mama's and Papa's for dinner. Michale was doing something when we got ready to drive down and said he would just walk the three hundred yards or so a few minutes later. Bull and blue heeler Prissy followed him and stayed in the yard a few minutes after Michael came inside. Apparently Bull decided to go back home. At 2:30 we drove into our driveway expecting Bull to come running, happy to see us as he always did. I noticed first thing that he didn't come out.
Monday were were out of school for Easter and Bull was still gone. He had never been gone overnight before. A man called "Cowboy" had been working for Mike Ederer about a half mile south of our house. He had been caught once stealing saddles and was on ten year probation. Had moved to Greenville recently. I learned where he lived and drove over there. Looked all around the house but didn't see Bull. Local police told me he had moved back to Cooper. When I got home, Bret said Cowboy had been to our house, borrowed my saddle, and was riding a colt somewhere nearby. I figured my saddle was gone for good but about dark he brought it back and denied any knowledge about Bull, saying he was at his girlfriend's house in Honey Grove all day Sunday.
Bull was still gone on Tuesday. Jean and the kids went to a softball game but stayed home going through some of the camcorder videoa. When a picture of bull come up on the television I would pause it them take a picture with my regular camera. Got the film developed, made copies, and put up all around. Jean and the boys came home and things were pretty glum. Ten year old Greg went to this room. His windows were open on the warm spring night. After a few minutes he came back and sat at the bar. Said you coul dhear all kinds of things through that window. Michael asked him like what things. Greg answered frogs and crickets then went back to his room but didn't stay long. Came back and started crying. Said he could hear Bull way off barking. That tore mea nd Jean Up. She loaded him in our car and they went to the country road west of our house and around the Jody Preas' Loop. In a little while they both came back crying. Had not heard or seen Bull. Seems like it's sinking in that he's gone for good. If he had been run over on the busy highway our front it wouldn't have been near as bad. At least we would know what happened. Now we're thinking he's tied in someone's yard somewhere. Maybe they wanted him for a hog dog or to fight other bulldogs in contests. When I roled over at night I couldn't go back to sleep from wondering where he was. Over the next few days I searched barns thinking he could have gone in a corn crib or such and the door shut behind him. Twleve days after he disappeared, Corey Morgan called to say he found a dead dog south of the gravel pile on Southwest First Street and I searched there for an hour.
As I write this in 2012, we still don't know what happened to Bull. Have you ever had a favorite dog to disappear?
Two guys were fishing one Sunday morning and heard the church bell ringing. One told the other they really should be in church. The other said," Aw, I couldn't go anyway. My wife is sick!"