Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Tow Truck Memories

Before I tell my story, I just have to ask you to go to my friend Sonia's blog and see the pictures of homeless people and their pets. It is the most loving, sweet, adorable, caring blog post I have ever seen. The pictures are incredible, they will touch your heart and make your day. Please go and check them out here:  


Tow Truck Memories

As a new day dawned, the old truck opened his lights, stretched his hood, and yawned. He enjoyed his view of the mountains in the early morning light, the twitter of the first birds, the little rabbits hurrying to get a last bite before hiding for the day. Soon, he thought, the old woman and her fluffy white dog will come walking by. He enjoyed their company, but couldn't quite understand why she wanted to take his picture.

I'm nothing much to look at now, he thought. It was different in my hayday, when I was young and strong and a hard worker. I had a very special place in my community and was much loved by all the cars I helped tow when they ran out of gas or had a breakdown. 

I had many adventures on the highways. Once I met a pretty Mustang lady whose owner drove her too fast and she crashed. I rescued her in time so she could be put back together to hit the road again. Rescues like that made my life worth while. I didn't stand a chance with Mustangs though, they were way above me.

Back in the day, I met many Ford Pintos, and one of them, a sweet little blue car, had quite the crush on me. She didn't need much help to break down, but she would still make sure to spill some oil so she could see me again. I wasn't much for the larger fin-tailed Fords and our town's Crown Victoria, owned by our local top cop, sort of scared me. Very queenly and demanding she was. Later little compacts arrived in our town and I fell for them ~ the ones colored bright red were my favorites. But I was old then, so they were just what us guys call "eye candy." Those were the days, thought the old truck. 

Then my owner retired to the country and I became a farm truck for a long while. Just like old Betsy is now. I smile when she drives by, carrying loads to the dump, helping to get rid of weeds, and much more for the people who live here now. 

Old Betsy
One day my owner placed me here, took off my front tires, and just left. I am glad he had me facing the nice view of the hills where a mama bear lived with her cub last summer and many coyotes come by and sing their weird songs for me. 

My owner left my very large side-view mirrors too. Now I can look behind me and keep an eye on the neighbors next door and their animals. They have a new little calf now that's entertaining me with his antics: running, bucking, full of joy.  

My windows are open and little birds come inside in the winter to keep warm. In the spring they peck and peck at my upholstery until they make a hole. Then they take little pieces of filling in their beaks and fly away to add some style and warmth to their nests. 

All in all, said the old truck to himself, my retired life is not so bad. I know of others who went to the big old junk yard and got picked up by machines and squashed to death. Thinking of them, I have a very splendid retirement here in my desert mountain canyon.

And some of the pictures she takes of me come out pretty sweet, if I may say so myself.

~ The End ~

Inspired by Madnapper Sandra who likes old rusty stuff and who has had a tough time with an injury lately.  Check out Sandra's creative and fun blog here. 


Related Posts with Thumbnails