Now my grandfather also had an English bulldog named Buddy.

Buddy was his constant companion in the way that a good dog is a constant companion—which is to say, he was always there, always underfoot, always watching , and always of the opinion that whatever my grandfather was doing, he ought to be doing it too. Buddy was a dog of considerable personality and limited ambition, content to lie in the shade for most of the day, but he had one particular talent that elevated him above the common run of canines, and that talent was digging potatoes.

I do not say this lightly, I do not say it for comedic effect. That dog could dig potatoes the way a pig hunts truffles—with an instinct so refined, so absolute, so beyond the reach of training or explanation, that it bordered on the supernatural.

My grandfather loved it. And if he liked a certain someone— if a man came through his store or crossed his path in the course of his travels and my grandfather took a shine to him he would invite that man to come see the show. He would not say “harvest time,” because we did not use that word. In the South, the word was specific. The word was sacred. He would invite him at tater-diggin’ time.

He would bring Buddy up to the garden. He would let Buddy smell the ground. And then he would say in a voice that carried the authority of a man issuing a military command “Get it, Buddy.”

And Buddy would go to digging.

He’d dig with his front paws, plowing through the dirt with a ferocity that would have put the Troy-Bilt to shame. And when he’d unearth a potato, he would snap his nose against it, take it off to the side, and immediately dig into the next one. And my grandfather would sit back—this big, two-hundred and fifty pound man—and laugh.

He would laugh the way a man laughs when the world has produced something so perfectly entertaining that he feels personally rewarded for having lived long enough to witness it. And Buddy would dig every last potato out of that ground and not leave one unturned.

—Some Things Are Meant To Keep Tales from the Copper Basin written by Joshua Griggs

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You may remember our friend Josh from some of the videos we’ve filmed. He was one of my first interviews on Celebrating Appalachia and he’s been in a few of Paul’s music videos.

Josh recently published his first book Some Things Are Meant To Keep Tales from the Copper Basin. It’s an enjoyable read full of nostalgia, humor, and a longing for simpler times.

Earlier this week I had the opportunity to talk with Josh about the book. In the coming weeks I’ll share the video on Celebrating Appalachia. If you’re interested in learning more about his book go here.

Long about tater digging time Matt and I’ll be wishing we had Buddy to help.

Last night’s video: Too Many Tommy-Toes? Make Tomato Juice – So Easy & Delicious!

Tipper

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