Blue and Snapper

Some years back, my family and I were traveling to my birth place in Louisiana for my Papaw’s funeral.  Regardless of the occasion, the mandatory first stop upon arrival was to the drive thru daiquiri hut.  Not because we’re closet alcoholics, but for the mere fact that spending a weekend with our family requires a substantial bump in blood alcohol content...for a normal visit.  This being a funeral trip, we opted for the “High Octane” moonshine package.

As with most families, a funeral will gather family members from across the country at the drop of a hat.  Ours in no different, except for this boiling pot to assemble, some legal strings would have to be pulled…literally.

Life in the Jenkins family, my Mother’s side, went one of two ways.  A life dedicated to God, or a life dedicated to mischief.  Papaw Jenkins and the majority of his brothers decided on the latter, leading into quite an audience for the weekend services. 

The funeral parlor was near capacity and I looked to my Dad and asked him who the hell all these people were.  Based upon Papaw Jenkins reputation and dealings during his lifetime, my father’s response was flawless, “Son, I believe that 30 percent of these folks are family or friends paying their respects, the remainder are here to make sure that Papaw Jenkins is actually dead.”

Included in the 30% were the Jenkins boys. Of the four brothers, only 3 were in attendance, including Papaw Jenkins.  The oldest, Darrel, current resident at Louisiana State Penitentiary, attempted reprieve but was denied well before the ink dried on his request.

Dennis, the baby, was only present at the viewing after being granted temporary release from Acadia Parish Rehabilitation Center.

Donald, the sole brother without ties to crime, was also present – thankfully, as most of us had never met Darrel or Dennis…and yes, all the brother’s names begin with D.

Stories of past/current run-ins with the law and trouble they encountered littered the parlor with Donald narrating each story accurately, as he was usually the recipient of the sole phone call from the Sherriff’s office.

Once Donald introduced us to our long lost Uncle Dennis, we all began to warm up to him.  Not having seen Dennis since we were all young children, if ever, we asked the typical, non rehab questions - Kids, wife, pets, etc?

Dennis responded kindly, “Oh yes, I’ve been divorced for quiet a while, and was going to bring Blue and Snapper with me, but Blue is too damn big to fit in the car, and Snapper is so fat and lazy he never wants to get off the couch.”

My Mother responded, “Uncle Dennis, Good lord, what kind of dogs do you have.”

Dennis, although quite confused with the question, promptly answered my Mother, “Blue and Snapper aren’t my dogs, there your first cousins!”