Ah, an old memory popped into my head. Back in the 60s, my wife and I took on a Sunday morning paper route. I had an old Nash station wagon that ran pretty darn good for its age. Picture is not mine ,but it was the same car. Little did we realize that this country route was in the snow belt part of county. We ran through drifts as high as the hood and just once had to turn back. Another time, it was glare ice, we slid off the side of the road trying to get to paper box. Within five minutes, out comes the farmer, on his John Deere, and pulled us right out. Of course, he wouldn't accept anything, so his paper was free for a couple months.
Toward the end of the route, was this beautiful St. Barnard dog. I wish he hadn't been named Cujo, but he didn't live up to that name, thank God. He would see us coming down the road and
he would leap up on the side of the car. Now, if you didn't know him, you would probably have soiled yourself. He would not leave until he got a big hug and a big dog biscuit, I always carried biscuits on all my paper routes, saved getting a bite a few times.
Looking back, I had a lot of interesting jobs and some crazy things happened. Oh well, that's for another time.
Pappy