My turn: Not everyone can stomach Thumper

By Clarence Plank: PNT staff writer

I got my first taste of country life with my grandfather, Butler Earl “Smitty” Smith.

He was a wise and funny old man.

Smitty liked to hunt, fish, go four-wheeling and hang out with his buddies at a local diner in Catersville, Ala. He taught me a little about hunting and fishing while I was growing up.

He used to go hunting in the woods near his house. Smitty brought home raccoons, squirrels and rabbits. Sometimes he would get deer meat from his friends when they brought something back.

One day, he made dinner for the family, which consisted of pinto beans, corn bread, mashed potatoes, rabbit and dumplings. We all sat down at this huge feast, not realizing we were having rabbit for dinner.

My grandfather loved to pick on my Aunt Tina because she is not fond of eating small, cute, furry things, such as rabbits. You should have seen her eyes when she found out.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’m eating Thumper.”

Then she shot off to the bathroom for the rest of the meal.