This occurred when Cal Fire was at Mather Field which had been a Strategic Air Force base during the Cold War with the Soviets. The FBI transported the Unabomber’s one-room cabin to Mather Field. It was very small. I had my German Shepherd, Shultzee, with me at work because I planned to go straight to the BLM land to hunt pigs. In the last hour, I racket my right shoulder blade with a plane’s scarf tube. Scarf tubes look like giant injection needles. At least it was not my head. At 2:30 pm, I loaded Shultzee into the truck which had a camper on it. Shultzee was excited because she knew we were going hunting.
I had picked a spot in Yuba County. Shultzee and I looked for pig tracks and scraping marks when we arrived. I saw none. The next morning, we walked five miles from the truck. I had my GPS with us. I had trained Shultzee to return to the truck on the command of ‘Sook truck.’ I was beaten at the end of Saturday. The next day, we only traveled four miles from the truck. Shultzee had a good time, I saw nothing to shoot on either day. When we got back, we ate our meals. I foolishly left my GPS behind at the truck to take a stroll with Shultzee. I kept finding new meadows. Each meadow had four or more trails leading from them. I got lost! The sun was only an hour from setting. What an awful feeling to be lost. I didn’t have my jacket on either. I looked down at Shultzee to tell her, Sook truck! She started toward the direction that she thought the truck was located. I began to have doubts that she was going in the right direction. I said, “It is every mammal for itself now, Shultzee.”
I started moving Eastward through the heavy brush which was intertwined with the trees. It was nearly impassable for me. Shultzee abandoned me to go her own way. I found the highway which led me to the dirt road and our campsite. I was all scratched up. As I came around the truck, Shultzee looked up at me. It was written all over her, “You big dummy, I knew the way to the truck.” Going forward, I never doubted her again. Six days later, I was in our front yard with Shultzee and my seven-year-old daughter, Rachel. Rachel had been playing with Shultzee as I mowed the front lawn. After I finished mowing, I came over to the driveway to talk with Rachel. That scarf tube injury at my right shoulder blade area hadn’t gotten any better. The injury area was burning like it was infected. I knelt down as I took off my shirt. I asked Rachel to look at my right shoulder blade area to tell me what she saw. Rachel said, “Daddy, there is a bug in your back!” I asked Rachel to pull the bug off of my back. Rachel pulled the bug off of my back and she dropped it on the driveway. I turned around to see what kind of bug it was, it was a huge tick that was fat with six days’ worth of my blood. I crushed it under my boot. The instant Rachel removed the tick from my back, the burning stopped. I went over to Shultzee to see if she had any ticks on her. Shultzee was loaded with ticks from her head to her tail. As Rachel looked on, I began pulling the ticks off Shultzee. Rachel stepped on the ticks as I dropped them on the driveway. Shultzee hadn’t given any indications that she was in pain from the ticks. I never got a pig in the years I hunted for them. I could have bought several whole pigs with all of the fuel I used in the pursuit of them.
Published by Editor, Sammy Campbell.