My Favorite Whipping

One of my more memorable whippings as a boy was when I was about ten or eleven. My dad and I were in the front yard headed to the car one sunny Florida day when he came to the knowledge that I had violated one rule or another. 

We prepared for the peculiar father-son dance that was much more common in those days. My preparation required no real effort and consisted only of mounting dread.  Daddy prepared by unbuckling his belt, sliding it from around his waist in one smooth motion, doubling it over, and taking me by the left arm.

The counterclockwise dance began with Daddy providing the beat while I sang the music. The whipping soon became my favorite when our dog, Skipper, arrived on the scene and started biting at Daddy's legs. I stopped being the focus of attention as Daddy attended to the dog.

After a couple of swings at Skipper, the dog retreated.  I suspect Daddy was at least a little amused at the turn of events, and that was the end of the affair.

I wasn't sure that day if my father loved me, but I knew my dog did.