[quote]BradTGIF wrote:
Second one, a little more involved. While I grew up hunting and fishing I pretty much was a dog guy. I had coonhounds, bird dogs, and beagles until I joined the Navy. One of my Bluetic Hounds “Sam” took off one night while hunting and I didn’t find him.
Fast forward a week of looking and my GF’s uncle told me he spotted him off the back of a beef-cow pasture. He’d killed a calf and been feeding off it. I loved Sam, even had some graduation pictures taken with him. It broke my whole soul but I had to go set up on this calf carcass and put him down, he’d gone wild and there was no coming back. A couple nights later I was set up on that carcass and Sam came wandering in. He smelled me and tried to get further down-wind, I nickered and called out “easy son…” It was enough for him to slow down and look over his shoulder. I put one in his ear from about 25 yards or so.
Fast forward another year and I’m driving at night on the '94 through Chicago while freezing rain begins to fall. I come around a right handed curve and see a pile up of a few cars and commence to do everything wrong, grip up on the steering wheel, slam on the brakes and fishtail a few times knowing full well I’m going to run into this pile of metal at about 60 mph. Then for whatever reason, my big Buick Regal rights itself and slides to the drivers side shoulder and stops, as if something from above grabbed the car and maneuvered it for me, not a scratch on me or the car. So, that happens, and I’m sitting there twisted from adrenalin still gripping the steering wheel barely remembering to breathe when I hear clear as day:
“easy son…”
Coincidence or not, I know what I heard. This story is one I rarely tell because it’s a fucking sad story about a kid and his dog, and I’m also a more pragmatic dude and tend to stay away from the supernatural, but it happened, and that’s my recollection.
[/quote]
I’m sorry about your dog, man. I don’t know how you were strong enough to do what you did - I know I wouldn’t be.
And that is freaking amazing about hearing ‘easy son…’ after you avoided some serious shit. Maybe ol’ Sam was looking down on you.