Tippy, Chapter 18

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

Continued from last week.

I could tell the truck was going around the restaurant because it was going slow. But fairly soon, it was out on the highway and gaining speed. Looking around at my situation, it was grim. The truck was about half full of food and other waste.  

I was lucky enough to be on top of that. Lighting was dim, there was just a small crack around the top lid that had opened to dump me and the container I occupied into the truck.

What to do?  

There seemed to be no way out except through the lid I had entered. I thought about this for a long time. It took about all of my dog brain to figure it out. The truck could not unload the way it loaded – the contents of the truck could not be pushed upward.  

After carefully examining the inside of the truck, I concluded there was a door on the back that must open to dump the contents.

Now, my job was to stay on top of the contents until it was dumped so that I was not buried in the truck.

It was the longest day of my life. The truck would drive along for 15 or 20 minutes, then dump another load nearly on top of me. I learned to scurry to the back corners and then get on top of the load after it dumped. In this way, I kept rising in the truck. This routine went on for a very long time.

Late in the day, we pulled off the smooth highways onto some sort of gravel road like we used to have on the farms. The truck went up a big hill. It was going very slowly, then it stopped. I could hear some humans outside talking.

Next, there was a whining noise the whole bed started lifting! I scrambled to the top of the load just before it slid out of the truck. I slid out on top of the load! I ran off the load and got out on the ground away from the humans.  

I was thinking about what to do next. I was safe, but I had no idea where I was.
  
In a minute or two, the chicken landed right in front of me!

“How in the world did you get here?” I exclaimed.

“I flew.”

“I knew that. I mean, how did you know where I was?”

“I happened to see you with that pack of dogs back in Milford,” said the chicken. “I knew better than get close to them, so I stayed back a little bit. Saw you get dumped in the truck. I have been following it all day.”

“You must be tired.”

“Well, every once in a while, I would take a rest on the top of the truck. I didn’t try to arouse you; it was too noisy.”

“Have any idea where we have been?”

“Oh, lots of places. Mt. Adams, Clifton, Over-the-Rhine, Price Hill, Covington. We crossed the Ohio 
River on the Brent Spence Bridge twice – once each way.”

“Where are we now? Are we near Ivy Hill Drive?”

“We are at a trash mountain, a few minutes north of Ivy Hill Drive.”

To be continued.

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press.