We Willow Creek boys don’t mean no disrespect when we give a name to a new comer.  Even old timers can’t escape.

We have one boy who’s been burn’in powder and ram’in ball and he is still generic.  Don’t got no name yet.  Maybe come  rondeevoo.

Be’in modern times and all, most of us have families, nice warm lodges, many horse wagons and pets.

It was at a rondeevoo back in ’88 when she showed up.  If my recollecter is right, it was number two for her.  She really filled a dark hole around the council fire, right brightnin.  Only problem we had was mak’in her acquainted to the mountain folk we’d gott’in to know.

Seems in years gone by when ever anyone went off for a rondeevoo they’d drop off their pet for her to watch while they was away.  She’d take the pet in and baby the thing till the return of the owners.

Now pets aint no dumbies, they know where their stick floats and where their bread is buttered.  She babied them pets so much that if we could’nt find ours we’d go to her lodge and there the little critter would be.  Fact is,  rondeevoo or not, you can go to her lodge most anytime and find her own pooch and no less than two ad sometimes three others, plus a cat or two.

Be’ins how she now takes in these here rondeevoos, we figured she needed a name.  We was sitt’in there, about half the gang, call’in out names when “Bones” hit on the the good one.  Yes siree, even Mom couldn’t escape the talk’in stick come council fire that night.  The tribe and guests were quiet as the fire offered its glowing tribute.  The nam’in went on and from now on where ever mountain men shall meet, Mom shall be known as “Many Dogs”.

Bears Butt

May-June 1989