MOORE — “My ancestors fished this creek when it was a mud puddle,” said Bert, putting his fly rod to one side and pulling a sandwich out of the lunch bag. “Wonder if they had any better luck than I did this morning.”
“The way to look at it,” Doc said, trying to look wise, “is since they obviously lived long enough to have progeny, they must have been decent Lewis Creek fishermen.”
“That in itself is a miracle, Doc,” Bert said, “because Joe Herring, on my mother’s side, was so dumb he once stole the sheriff’s horse.”
Dud Campbell almost became part of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the laughter that followed. Doc choked on his coffee. Bert, looking a bit embarrassed, put some more sticks on the small campfire.
“Don’t feel bad, Bert,” Dud said. “We all have ancestors with ‘dumb’ stamped on them. Why, one of the first Campbells to move to the valley decided to be a cattle rancher and bought 40 head of steers.”
“Steers?”
“That’s right. And he couldn’t figure out why they didn’t have calves come spring.”
Bert turned to Doc. “Okay, Doctor. Your turn.”
“I hate to admit this,” said our beloved healer of owies, “but ‘way back during the Civil War, I had an ancestor so dumb, he fought for the West.”
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