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The continuing adventures of “Mr. B.C.”

May 7, 2017 | 3:11 PM

For those who have been following the story of Mr. B.C., sorry it has taken a while to continue the story.

I’m used to being a broadcaster, not a writer.

There were many stories involving B.C., but here are three of our favourites…

The Smell

Before moving to Innisfail, my sister Sherry and my brother-in-law Tony lived on a small rented farm near Joffre. Their dog was a young German Shepherd-cross named Hootch.

B.C. was still catching on to this play stuff and on his first visit to the farm Hootch was in heaven – buddies to play with.

B.C.’s thinking “This could be fun.” Daina, not so much, she was jealous that another dog was playing with HER friend! Around the farm yard, Hootch would chase B.C. and B.C.  would chase Hootch.

The entire time Daina was chasing right along with them, growling, snarling and nipping at Hootch’s back paws. We were enjoying ourselves watch the chases, but could see B.C. was beginning to tire.

Shortly after, we noticed a Hootch and a Daina, but no Mr. B.C. in sight. My sister starts laughing and says she’s found him.

He had taken up refuge in Hootch’s dog house and all you could see was the tip of his nose. And he was NOT coming out for anyone, he was played out.

It was a fun day – especially to see B.C. play so hard, and as dusk set in, it was time to head back to Red Deer.

Problem – no Hootch or B.C. to be seen.

With a couple of calls, both came tearing out of the bush beside the garden. Hootch was leading, and B.C. was right behind him. I could see B.C.’s white head and back, but as Hootch moved closer – the smell, oh the smell!

Hootchie moved a bit to the side and you could see that both were covered chest high in a back watery, mucky sludge. Both had waded deeply into the cesspool overflow, or holding pond – whatever you want to call it, it was not fresh water.

You never saw four people move so fast, as both dogs wanted to shake. We did what we could with the garden hose, but it was a stinky ride back to Red Deer with every window open in the van.

It was a long night as well, as it took two trips into the bathtub and every towel, old bed sheet, paper towels and old socks we could find, and a hair dryer, before we could say good night.

That Wascally Wabbit

As we were about to start a Slo-Pitch game in Penhold, all of a sudden B.C. spots a rabbit hip-hopping by. He and Daina gave chase.

I’d mentioned in an earlier posting that he really did not know how to bark properly, and he sounded like someone was stepping on his paws.

The bunny continued to hop, letting the two dogs get a little bit closer and then hits high gear.

All most people saw was two dogs running all-out, with one sounding like he was in extreme pain. As soon as Bugs went warp speed, Daina stopped. Not B.C…..he was going to chase that rabbit back to Red Deer.

We had to run after our no-longer-young guy to bring him back to the ball diamond.  We were all pretty winded.

B.C. was so tired, and by the next morning so stiff, that when we went back to play on Sunday, we had to leave him at home.

He kinda looked at us as we left and nodded his thanks.

The Mascot Takes One For The Team

In all the years we played Slo-Pitch, B.C. did this once and only once. For why, we will never know.

But it became part of Rainmakers Folklore.

The Rainmakers was a media tournament held in Argyle Park in Edmonton every year in June. The playing field was like a school yard diamond. No fences or dugouts, just the backstop and a bench on either side.

We had made the finals and the game was about to begin. The team’s bats were leaning up against the back of the backstop on both sides.

B.C. wasn’t tethered yet and was lying down by our bench. He got up and sauntered over to their side of the backstop – lifted his leg and we heard one of the opposition players pipe up “Hey that dog is pissing on our bats!”

We all looked over just in time to see the leg come down and watch as he strolled back to our side and lay back down, after giving the bats a good drenching.

Everyone burst out laughing. The umpires were just about in tears – and so were many of the players, on both sides.

I can’t recall if we won or lost, but that was definitely the hi-lite of the game.

We played in many more Rainmakers tournaments over the years, and would always get a kick out of walking to a diamond and have a number of the opposition players saying things like – Keep that dog away from our bats!

You could usually then hear one of them begin to retell the story about B.C.’s taking one for the team.

All good things must come to an end.

This will be the hardest part to write.

“Saying goodbye to Mr. B.C.”