Ol' Mutt
Page edited 10-Feb-22. MT
Source: Edward Ellsworth Laughlin (In his own words.)
This is a trip back in time. I am an old country boy as I am fond of saying.
Let me go back to the age of about five. My family was LARGE. There were always working dogs in all the farm yards. Working dogs were for hunting (birds and rabbits) or for tending live stock. Other dogs are pets or toys.
In our extended family there was always an Irish Setter named Mutt. Mutt would be moved from one uncle to another or to my dad’s place, whichever family was planning a hunt next.
When Mutt became too old to hunt, he would be retired to one of our families. My dad was one of fifteen. He had seven brothers and seven sisters. At this time we had Ol' Mutt. The retiree was always Ol' Mutt. My brother and I had Ol' Mutt now. I was five. My brother was three and a half. To the shame of my dad and my uncles, our Ol' Mutt became a mouser. I mean a serious mouser.
My brother, Ol’ Mutt and I would spend hours every day in the fields hunting mice. Wonderful, pleasant days in the sun and breezes of Indiana. Ol' Mutt would sniff through the tall grass. He would find the tunnel, the very small tunnel. Ol' Mutt would start to dig. He would dig while snorting and snuffing, throwing mud and dirt back all over us boys. We had to be up there as near as possible to the action. Ol' Mutt was good at his chosen task – he would spend many hours on one tunnel and seldom failed to get the mice.
We would have to be bathed every night at a time when water had to be carried into the house from the pump and heated on the kitchen wood stove. I don't remember that my mother ever complained. The Irish Setter was a fine bird dog at one time but have been bred too fine as show dogs. They don't have much sense any more. What a shame! Ol' Mutt and I are about in the same fix. I am no longer a hunter - more of a mouser.
For more stories about the Laughlin families, visit Laughlin Family Stories.