Ole Frackin’ Red
There’s some folks, mostly my wife, Ole Marth, in these parts of Tuscarawas and Carroll counties that figured I should have bought me a new pickup truck or even one of those new trendy condominiums in the mountains of Appalachia with my frackin’ money. But after considering all the possibilities I figured I’d just go on ahead and buy me a good dog. Something that wouldn’t rust and that I didn’t have to pay property tax on.
So while the oil people were measuring up to drill my well deep into that Marcellus shale, I just went ahead and bought me a Redtick Coonhound named Big Red. And, yes sir, I bought him on credit because the bank told me that my lovely county of residence in the foothills of Appalachia was going from one of the poorest counties in the state to the richest, and that transformation would be swift and long-lived. Hallelujah! Let the fracking begin.
And, now, I want to be ready to spend all my anticipated leisure time in the woods at night with that good dog. Because, you see, I plan to give-up my day job. No need to add loose change to that big pile of frackin’ money. And following that hound in the woods at night will give me plenty of exercise and allow me to keep my sanity, not to mention my youthful figure. Ha! Yes, Big Red is just the ticket for me to stay grounded amidst my new found wealth on this little piece of Earth I call home. No need to travel to Florida or Vegas. I won’t be able to listen to that beautiful Silvertone Bawl there and I certainly have no need to gamble any longer. No need to go to New York or even Paris. All the culture I need is right here where I can gaze into those soft, loving, houndy eyes and rub those droopy velvet ears. The culture is in the intriguing fall woods that I follow him through.
Out here in God’s country, people won’t complain when Big Red lets the world know he’s on a coon track, because they know and appreciate a classy bawl mouth when they hear one. In fact, there’s even a petition being circulated around town to have his name changed to Ole Frackin’ Red, Carroll County Coondog. And what a classy example of our new found wealth he is. And, hunt on my brothers and sisters enriched by the discovery of gas and oil deep within these beautiful, rolling Appalachian foothills of Eastern, Ohio. Hunt on, Ole Frackin’ Red.
For: My fellow Carroll County Coonhunters and Frackin’
partners, and of course, mostly Ole Frackin’ Red.
Written by: J.D. Graham
Side Note: This is written about the angus beef farm my dad hunts on in Carroll County where they have started fracking. No fracking has begun on Lone Willow Farm and none is planned as of yet. (Although like most places in Ohio, my parents do not own the mineral rights to their land, they were sold off long ago to the coal companies. As a reminder of this, orange water flows into our pond from the back 40 acres that were strip mined.)