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By WALTER DAY
Years ago, during military
service, it was often necessary to obtain an advance in pay. There was a provision that if one was reassigned or on temporary duty an advance could be approved. The “hooker” (there is always a “hooker”) was the repayment terms. You could get a three-month advance but it had to be repaid in six months. Short term relief and long term pain. This process was aptly called a “dead horse.”
I chose to obtain a “dead horse” on several occasions and this always reminded me of an event in my youth, which I will now relate to you.
My first 16 years were spent on a farm in Idaho. We used horses for work and play. Being poor farmers, the same horses were used. I remember their names—Rowdy, Beck, Maude, Blackie and Brownie.
They were all different. Rowdy was a white gelding, allaround dependable, he could bring the cows in, pull a plow or tolerate little and big children. Blackie was spooky, we never trusted him except in harness and tied to another horse of calm disposition. Blackie caused a runaway with me on a mower. (I bailed out early.) Beck was a mare who liked to run and was hard to stop. She lost me on quite a few corners. Maude was old and dependable but too big and slow. We only rode her when the other choices were gone. But I digress.
Maude died one night. We guessed that it was old age and natural causes. My father went to the neighbors for a telephone. He called the glue factory. They would always come for dead horses and even pay a dollar for the carcass.
My father decided to outsmart the industry. When the driver arrived he demanded two dollars
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