One summer when I was 14-years-old, I went to Marysvale to help Grandpa on the ranch. I enjoyed riding in the truck with him and listening to him tell stories. I enjoyed that ride also because he always stopped for Ice Cream. Grandpa usually had a dog tied to a long leash in the back of the truck. One hot summer’s day, while we were getting Ice Cream, the dog jumped out of the truck and went underneath to find some shade. After finishing our Ice Cream we got back in the truck and drove to Richfield. When we got there, the only thing attached to the rope was a little ball of fur!
I admired Grandpa’s work ethic and drive. Although Grandpa was up there in years, he could still pitch double the hay that I could at age 15, and I was a big boy at that age. Of course, his technique was much better than mine.
Grandpa liked nice cars. He had a brand new 1949 Cadillac. There were times he hauled sheep in the back seat. When asked why he did it his response was, “They paid for the car; they ought to be able to ride in it!”
There have been times when someone offered a compliment to me about one of my kids. I’ve found myself repeating one of Grandpa’s famous sayings that I have heard Dad say many times as well, “It’s a poor sire that can’t improve the herd!”
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