Hard Times

Jack gave up looking for work. I know because I use his laptop and
read his e-mails. It's OK, though. Someone needs to watch over him.
So, he is out of the employment game. For now. No one hires this time
of year anyway. And Christmas is on our backs, as Jack says. Sherry
is freaking out, about parties and presents and decorations and
appearances and being able to enjoy it all. Enjoy Christmas. Yeah.
Right. I've been through too many Christmases to buy that bridge.

Anyway, Jack will start again in January looking for work. He will
have to put up with Sherry's griping until then. Or maybe Christmas
will be enough distraction for her.

Jack thinks he has it bad, he and lots of other people now. They
spent all day looking for work online and think they have it bad. I
spent The Great Depression in Wyoming, in the valley north of
Jackson. It wasn't bad. Times were tight. Sure. But, overall, life
was good. I lived with a rancher's family. We had cattle, and some
hogs and chickens. Sheep were also easy to come by locally. We grew
our own vegetables. Everyone did.

There were som foreclosures. But, not as bad as other parts of the
country, like Oklahoma. Everyone knew how to sew. Mending and
patching were necessities. We threw out nothing. I was also a fair
cobbler. A good pair of boots was nearly as valued as a good horse.
Canning was also a necessity. I still love pickled beets. I'll even
eat them as a dog. Yes, I was also in human phase during that time at
the foot of The Tetons. I was a dog on a ranch, and then was a cowboy
on that same ranch. That is another story.

Folks were still talking about the war, The Great War in Europe. Many
of the men fought in it, as did I. Few believed that it had been the
war to end all wars, especially the men who fought in it. They saw
it. They knew better.

I fell in love in Jackson. First with an Irish setter named Sheila,
them with a nurse named Pauline. Both had beautiful coats and limbs.
And both broke my heart. Another story.

It was then and there that I also first met and got to know a
werewolf. I spent much time in the woods, with my people, my family,
my friends and cattle. It was a warm spring day, I was collecting
steers to be inoculated. I looked up and saw a wolf, sitting,
watching me. I knew it was a werwolf. But, it was not displaying any
signs of aggression. She was just sitting there, watching me.

Jack should have been back by now. He's been gone a long time. I
wonder what he is up to.

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com