GEORGE AND THE PURPLE CORVETTE

I vividly remember the day. It was the big day of the Mooreland Hunt Ball in Huntsville. Proudly wearing their Colors, my veterinarian husband David and son Dee in their rich, red coats and daughter Lindsey in her royal blue-collared black coat, had left before daylight for the biggest fox hunting event of the season. Their well-groomed hunters and jumpers (horses) with tails proudly braided, trailered over behind them. In those days, horses were a big part of our family life.

It was mid-afternoon and I was bustling about in the kitchen, getting everything ready for the baby sitter and looking forward to getting myself all dressed up in my new white crepe jump suit trimmed in gold sequins and ready for the Hunt Ball that evening. I happened to glance out the window and to my amazement watched a purple Corvette sports car turn slowly into our driveway. To my further amazement, I saw that it was pulling a matching purple horse trailer.

Let me explain that for people like us who were already "horse poor" the sight of another horse trailer in my driveway, from my perspective, meant nothing but trouble. And no on had mentioned anything at all about the arrival of a new horse. By the time the door bell rang, I had worked myself into a tizzy. I jerked open the door to one of the handsomest young men I’d ever seen. Turning on all of his charm, with his black cowboy hat in his hand and a smile on his face, he asked, "Ma’am, where do you want me to put the jackass?""JACKASS? WHAT JACKASS? WHOSE JACKASS?" I shouted.

Quickly assessing the situation and seeing the humor in it, he said, "I guess Doc forgot to mention anything to you about George, huh?"

"GEORGE? GEORGE WHO?" I groaned.

Eventually, I guess you can tell, I too came to see the humor in the situation, became friends enough with the handsome young man in a purple Corvette and a purple horse trailer to laugh together with him about our story. Eventually, I forgave David for forgetting to mention to me that Dewayne Webb had graciously offered to share his pet jackass, George, with our young children for as long as they enjoyed having him around, which I recall, was quite a while.

What we were not told about George was that we, and in fact our entire neighborhood, would no longer need alarm clocks. We soon discovered that at first light, George welcomed each new day with a few joyful moments of the noisiest braying ever heard by man or beast. I probably should forgive the nice young man in the purple Corvette for omitting this important information from George’s resume`. And surely I should forgive George for waking us up (even if it was at first light) to simply invite us to join him in welcoming ... for a few joyful moments ... the wondrous new day.