The Second Samueltonian- Rosella Learns to Waterski

Rosella was smart, good-natured and so clean she always looked like she was dressed up for church. The fact that she was so clean was important Raymond said. "By the time we drive all the way from your farm back up here to the lake with her in the back seat of my Studebaker you'll know how important it is." They could not use Mansel’s Ford pick-up because Marcella Dean, "my little bride" as he liked to call her, had hidden the steering wheel and Mansel was tired of driving the truck using a pair of pliers. Down at Mansel's farm, the boys lured the pig into the sedan with a handful of jellybeans. "Don't let her have the black ones. Them’s my favorite," whispered Raymond. Rosella had never been in a car before, as far as Mansel could remember anyway, but she took right to it. She seemed to enjoy sitting in the back seat with her little piggy snout poking out the window, her ears flapping in the wind. Every so often she'd give a little grunt of pleasure. Mansel was sure they were all going to have a wonderful time! Waterskiing pigs are not the leading cause of boating accidents in the south, but after enough beer everything sounds like a good idea. Then it’s all fun and games until somebody says, “Hey, ya’ll! Watch this!” “Just tie the damn rope around her neck, Mansel.” “Might hurt her.” Mansel said. He remembered what Raymond had said about the dog; he did not want to injure Rosella. “I’m gonna fix up a harness for her. Put this rope behind her rump; tie this’n round her middle! She’ll be comfy-cozy!” “Hell Mansel, she’s just a pig!” Raymond snarled, “What if you do hurt her, you’re just gonna kill her in a few months anyway.” Mansel said nothing. He knew Raymond would not approve of what he was thinking. Mansel was sure he could not slaughter Rosella, he’d gotten too fond of her. The way she followed him around like a pup? Mansel knew he could no more turn Rosella into bacon than he could one of his own children. No, Mansel was sure Rosella would live a long and productive life; she would grow fat on sweet feed and cornbread, he knew she would die peacefully in her sleep with her grandpiglets gathered around. They settled Rosella into her harness. She did not seem overly concerned. She trusted Mansel and knew a man that could not eat her certainly would not drown her. Try as they might, Rosella would not stay on the skis. First they tried standing Rosella on the skis and pulling her gently down the boat ramp. The pig would simply jump off the skis and run down the ramp into the water. Then they tried tying her on the skis and taking off in the water. The skis became entangled in the rope and Rosella became tangled in both. It looked all the world like the boys were towing a dead body instead of a pig on skis. Eventually Rosella became impatient and bit Raymond. That was when Raymond decided what they needed was a surfboard. “Think about it, Mansel. That’s the only way to do this! We tie Rosella on a surfboard and take off! The problem is she’s got too many legs goin’ ever which ways, gettin’ tangled up.” Raymond seemed very sure of this, so what could Mansel do but agree. He was cold and wet and his foot hurt where Rosella stepped on it, but he did have one question. “Where we gonna find a surfboard in Second Samuel?” “You stay here and I’ll be right back! I got an idea!” yelled Raymond. With that he jumped in his Studibaker and drove off leaving Mansel and Rosella sitting on the boat ramp. As they watched him disappear Rosella walked over to Mansel and rooted her head under his arm. They sat there for a moment, Mansel’s arm around Rosella and her gently grunting. “You know what girl?” I’m not so sure this is such a good idea after all.” (To be continued)