Bird Dog - Turd Dogs

Bird Dog / Turd Dogs

By Rusty Cason

I watched them, in what could be termed as anguish, while my best friend Dave turned his hot dog bun sideways and held it up for my inspection as he exposed it to the light of our campfire. He stuck out his tongue and I squirmed as I watched him roll it up and down the bun. I sat there almost sick in unbridled anticipation of what would go down in my history book, as the most disgusting club initiation ever imagined by a group of my 12 year old peers.
"Just for you Rusty, Bird dog - turd dogs." There they lay on a tray next to the campfire, hot dogs, well, sort of.
My Scoutmaster laughed boldly at the intimidation that could be clearly seen on my face. I watched with my face wrinkled up, my lips pressed hard together, almost angry as one of them took two more off the grill and plopped them onto buns.
About 6 inches long, brown and textured. They looked like …well, turds. My Scoutmaster, Brother Dodson had two bird dogs that he called his hunting dogs. Their turds were brought to the initiation camp out once a year where everyone was to eat at least one as a sign of willpower and an “offering” of oneself to the group in self-humility.
Not a single fingernail on either of my hands was spared as I worried continuously for the week leading up to the camp out. I, being the shortest and smallest Tenderfoot in scouting history, stood just 4 foot 10 inches tall and weighed a whopping 92 pounds. I felt an almost compelling need to fit in and to feel accepted by my fellow scouts.
They spoke regularly at the meetings about the camp out but the initiation part was kept secret until one week before the trip.
As each of my fellow scouts gave their stories about their initiation,
smiles gleamed from their faces as they spoke about the offering.
Tonight they all joined together to sing a scouting song about brotherhood and then, the offering.
My best friend brought foreword the tray that everyone seemed so focused on. I took a deep breath, looked for the smallest one and picked it up. I studied it a moment as I noticed the turd dog had mustard and catchup on it. Strangely enough, it almost smelled good. As I slowly raised my hand to my mouth I could hear all of them chanting, turd-dog, turd-dog, turd-dog.
My moment of truth had come. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. I guess I must have hesitated for a second as my friend Dave elbowed my arm and helped me get it into my mouth.
They all started cheering and laughing as I chewed up what was the best tasting turd I ever ate, that’s right, since then I’ve eaten several, but none as good as the first. Every year I attended the Tenderfoot initiation cookout, I was part of the ploy. Annually I sat and laughed as the other new coming scouts squirm at the idea of eating a Hamburger rolled up like a hot dog. They sure do look like turds.The intimidation factor of it is amazing. Don’t believe me … roll yourself up a Bird Dog - Turd Dog and remember what it was like to be an eleven year old boy.