Initiative solves problems for student and stray dog
JERRY AULDS

All my school days, the question that most befuddled and flustered me was posed, not by a teacher in a classroom, but after school, by my Mom, just as I bolted through the front door at home.

"So what did you learn today?" inquired Marie Estelle Aulds.

A ducked head and a muttered silence were my usual answers to her query.

Today, this week, more than five decades after the fact, I'm at long last stepping to the head of the class with not one, but two ready answers.

"Mom, this week while roaming around Wharton County, I discovered a fish-catching dog is not necessarily a man's best friend, and I also found that a full immersion language switcheroo might be the perfect bonding agent for first-time roommates."

Language first. Back when he was in middle school, my friend Craig Radley, now an El Campo restaurant owner, cattleman and crawfish farmer, marched off to San Antonio Academy, a well-known military school in the Alamo City.

Now, I don't know if Craig still makes his bed with military sharp corners or can spin a rifle through the "16-count manual of arms drill," but thanks to a roommate snafu, he learned Spanish, taught English and developed a brother-in-arms friendship. Craig told me the roommate deal he made for his second year at the academy went south, so Craig and a kid from Mexico City "who was real smart but didn't know a word of English" ended up as roommates.

The kid was Pablo Tapie Visuet, and he and Craig made a language agreement.

"In our room, all conversations took place in two languages. I spoke only Spanish. Pablo spoke only English," Craig said, recalling their solemn adolescent pact.

While Craig returned home to El Campo following that term, he and Pablo's full-immersion language baptism yielded immediate dividends for Craig and the Radley family.

"My Dad was on the phone talking to someone in Mexico about a business deal and he was getting frustrated, and the more frustrated he got, the louder he got. Finally, he handed me the phone and said, 'Take care of this.'"

Craig took care of it and from that point forward, he was the go-between for any Radley family Spanish language negotiations.

And those two-way roommate lessons continue to produce positive results, as when a University of Houston professor overheard Craig conversing in Spanish with a series of customers at his restaurant, Pinchers. In Spanish, the professor introduced himself, complimented Craig on his language facility and then switched to English.

"He said he was going to make us a case study in one of his classes," Craig recounted with a proud smile.

(Oh, if Pablo reads this: Call Craig.)

Now, about the dog angler.

His name is Red, and awhile back he wandered onto Don and Shirley Matthews' place in El Campo.

Don, the head man at Quality Hot Mix, said the part Lab and part Mystery Mutt quickly exhibited a rare, self-taught talent while exploring the Matthews' crappie- and brimstocked pond.

"He wades out in the pond, stares down in the water, and when a fish approaches the bread or fish pellets we toss out in the pond, Old Red dives his head down and snatches him," explained Don, in a bland, matter-of-fact tone.

Red's talent did set Don to thinking, so he placed a call to Louisiana, to his longtime hunting and fishing buddy Bill Dowden, former El Campo superintendent of schools, inviting him to an "On Matthews' Pond" fishing expedition. It is unclear whether Dowden understood he would be going one-on-one in a fishing contest with Red.

However, you can understand that Dowden was a little miffed when the final count was five for Red, three for Dowden.

"It's no fun driving 200 miles to get out-fished by a dog," the genial but long-suffering Dowden complained to his hosts.

But Dowden can be glad that Betsy, the Matthews' little 4-monthold Schnauzer, was still in training. Don claims "she's going to be real good."

So Mom, that's what I learned "out and around."