“Help me, Jesus, Help me, Jesus”
That’s when Jesus the Rottweiler sprang into action.
We would arrive Friday, hunt Saturday and Sunday then return home on Monday.
Every Saturday night we would take the land owner, Ken and his wife, out to dinner in a neighboring town then return to the Logan bar and drink some beers and shoot pool with Ken.
There was a huge farm hand who hung out in that bar whose nick name was Jesus.
When we we asked Ken how he got his name "Jesus", Ken said "well, the first time anyone ever met him, the first thing they would say was "holy Jesus!" because he was so big.......LOL!
I know that old joke!