Once upon a time in Baum Hollow (pronounced by the natives as “BUM Holler”), there lived a tiny lad, name of ”Bulldog”. Well, his momma and pappy didn’t name him “Bulldog” when first they laid eyes on him. No, that name came on him later… 

Bum Holler was not a thriving community, but a not-so-wide spot in the road where the lad’s grandpa farmed a piece of bottomland and the adjacent hillsides. Bulldog’s family had built a small house a little less than a furlong down the road from Grandpa’s log house. Being the first grandchild, the lad was highly respected and admired and even called by his proper name, Ralph Donald. His aunts and uncles no doubt spoiled him too much. Nevertheless, the boy was a shy child. One day an aunt who thought he would be pretty as a girl conned the lad into the dress-up game. Things went all right until an ornery uncle, a teenager, came upon the scene. The mood changed at once from feminine adoration to brutal teasing. Uncle Ornery insisted on proof that there was a new girl in the family. Sneaking a peek under the skirt embarrassed Ralph Donald so that right then he decided he would never again masquerade as a girl.  Is it any wonder that the guy was shy? 

The summer before Ralph Donald was to start first grade, Uncle Ornery and friends began to talk about how school took away the freedom of leisure that young folks enjoyed; how one had to obey the teacher, study and all sorts of strange things. There were no kindergartens in those days except perhaps for kids of rich parents who wanted to get their kids out from underfoot. So it was a big jump into a strange world. As the day drew nearer, Uncle and company would say, “It won’t be long now”. Someone found a cartoon showing a monkey about to get his tail chopped off and read the caption, “It won’t be long now”. By now the little lad was quite apprehensive about school. 

But the day arrived and Mom took her little boy to school and after enrolling him went back home to her duties. After all, she had a genuine little girl to care for. 

Things went smoothly in first grade class for much of the morning. Miss Flannery executed her lesson plan. A great deal of the spoken word goes unnoticed by young minds. It’s not clear whether or not potty location and protocol were verbally explained. It is certain, however, that no physical show-and-tell was conducted.  Ralph Donald was ignorant about what to do when “nature calls” in these strange surroundings. He had been told to mind the teacher. He hoped for an early recess but to no avail.  Nature won’t be denied for long and finally won, while the poor boy sat paralyzed. The mile walk home after school seemed much longer than it really was. Feet seemed to get heavier with each step. The lad had to face Mom, but he took some consolation in the knowledge that he had gained that day.

Things went fairly well for the next several months, except that Ralph Donald’s mind wandered now and then. He would much rather be in the woods with his uncle gathering chestnuts and persimmons or perhaps wading in a creek or riding grandpa’s sweaty horse back from a day ploughing.

In spring, boys would rather play marbles during recess. Ralph Donald looked on and decided it looked like fun. He managed to acquire a few pennies and bought some pea jibs, clay orbs not quite round, at the candy store, and joined the boys in a game. He enjoyed his turn at trying to knock a few marbles out of the ring. When it came his turn again there were none left to shoot at. To begin the next game the boys demanded he put more marbles in the ring, but he had no more. That’s when he learned about playing for keeps, a rude awakening. This brought tears to the lad’s eyes and a distraught look, with a wide down-turned mouth. One of the boys saw the face as the look of a bulldog, and did not hesitate to say so. Others in the gang agreed and the name “Bulldog” was born. 

Bulldog most certainly was not pleased with the name, not because of the name itself, but because it reminded him that his peers thought of him as a crybaby. He was stuck with the name. Fortunately not everyone called him Bulldog and he adapted to his situation.

Because of the great depression Bulldog’s family moved to a town in another state were nobody knew him as Bulldog. He was happy for that. No one called him Bulldog again. He went on to be known by a variety of other nicknames, which was all right because he had matured a bit. He had learned one important lesson from the “bulldog” incident; to never play a game until you learn the rules.