The sun was starting to rest over the meadows. Gil, the head farmer, and the little boy called the cows together, “Come Boss, come Boss.” Babe was a huge Guernsey who loved to eat apples out of the young boy’s hand. Snowball, a Holstein, was whiter than the first snowfall, a bit older and moved slower than Babe. Jumping onto the gate, the boy got his bib overalls caught on the hinge. “Let’s go boy, we still need to milk these girls.” The boy shaded his eyes cast up to the Catskill mountains and wondered where the sun went at night. He peppered Gil with a million questions that day, and in fact every day. The farmer was patient as a saint, and answer his best in detail. The scientific curiosities of the boy’s mind hungered for more. When Gil could no longer bear his questions he’d say, “Let’s save that one for tomorrow.” They had ridden the tractor all day across the six acres of potato fields. Gil was exhausted.
Near the main house a truck pulled in quickly. The boy’s father moved in closely to the neighbor for the quick conversation. As Gil directed the cows into the barn, the boy jumped down from the gate and saw a small bundle being passed to his father wrapped in a towel. He ran over and saw the tiny furry head poking out of the towel. “Daddy, we have to take him to the vet.” His father sighed, “Yes, here hold him on your lap, and we’ll go before the vet closes up shop. They hurried into their 1952 Chevrolet brown and green station wagon.
Dr. Hahn was a gentle young doctor who loved all creatures and was well respected by the town of Jeffersonville and the surrounding areas. The vet’s office was 8 miles away from their Fosterdale Recreation Farm.
The door was open a crack and the father and son walked up to the desk. “Dr. Hahn, are you available to assist us?” The vet had taken off his coat and was preparing to leave for the night. “What do we have here?” the vet asked. The boy tried to explain a neighbor driving by their farm saw the dog laying still on the side of the road. The man thought the dog might be someone’s pet who lived on the farm. “He was hit by a vehicle and was laying nearby on the side of the road. He’s hurt doctor, can you please help him?” “Yes, I’ll take a look, but he’ll have to stay with me for a few days,” the doctor said.
Silently, the ride home seemed much longer.
Three days later, the boy pestered his dad until the father couldn’t take it any longer. “Get your jacket, we’ll go see Dr. Hahn.” As the boy zipped his jacket up, he told his dad he’d be right there. “I don’t have all day, hurry up, “the father answered.
The boy skipped up the steps and tripped over his feet as he bolted into his small room. He reached up on the top shelf to the cigar box that held his prize possessions, and scooped up a pocket full of coins.
Dr. Hahn greeted his dad with a firm hand shake. This dog’s lucky. You saved his life, Ronny.”
“How much is the bill?” the boy asked.
He dug deep into his pockets and pulled out $3.17 and laid the coins on the counter. That was his three month’s allowance.
“Well, there, that exactly how much how much, you owe.” The vet handed the happy beagle to the boy and the dog’s tail was wagging up a storm. Ron smiled ear to ear.
That Christmas, the boy and his dog were inseparable. Winter had covered the farm with a foot of snow. With a small saw in hand, they found the perfect tree in the wooded lot and dragged it back home. “Come on Rec, let’s go boy, we will surprise everyone with the best tree ever.”
Sixty years later, while Ron was visiting his older brother, Bob, in the Veterans hospital near Wappinger’s Falls, he learned that the real bill was around $100.00 dollars to save that stray dog. No one, until that day had ever told him. In 1957, that was a huge sum of money. The boy never knew the gift he received from his father. Often, one doesn’t know the time and money spent on our most treasured gifts.
