As a young child I was everywhere that my dad was. When he went to check his corn fields I was right there in the pickup with him. Walking the pastures to check the cattle and fences, I was his shadow. My favorite part of the day was when we fed the hogs. I did not like the smell in the hog buildings, but there was just something in those buildings that I could not stay away from.
We had a small room in one of the hog barns that held random junk. As they say: “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.” While dad was tending to the hogs I would be in that room tending to the junk. At first the old bicycles held my attention. Then I moved on to the license plates from the 1940s that my dad collected. Finally, I found the traps tucked away in the corner. The day that I found those traps changed me forever.
At first I would sit and tinker with those rusty #1 and #11 Victors while my dad fed the hogs. This went on for a couple of weeks. Dad would do
