Uncle Totes

(This one is especially for Christy Passer)

This is a short work of fiction, written for my brother, because of the metal dog statue in his yard, pictured above.

Do y’all remember Aunt Marvella? She was Abner Able’s oldest, she’s our kin by marriage, married our great-grand uncle Bartholomew? She had that kid brother they raised up. Spoiled him, Gram said, never had any rules. Aunt Marvella felt bad for 'im because their momma died when he was a baby.

Anyway, Aunt Marvella did everything for that boy. He was a lazy little thing, never wanted to walk anywhere, always wanting to be picked up and carried. “Tote me, tote me,” he’d whine at her, and she gave in until he was way too big to be carried. I don’t rightly remember 'is name; I’m not ever sure I knew a name fer him up except Uncle Totes.

That iron dawg we have outside? It was too heavy to get carried away. Your daddy, always the funny one, named him for Uncle Totes.

And that’s why that iron dawg’s name is Unc Tote Able.