On my eighth birthday my father brought me a bulldog, a fat, little bulldog. I named him Prince Henry Stout. He was strong. He would've chased my pet turkey; he would've chased a squirrel up the tree. I raised him, I trained him, I fed him, I grew him, I took care of him, I loved that dog. I loved that dog more anything in the world I loved that dog.
My father gave me a handful of cherry bombs and M-80s and said: "You're gonna train this dog to be a protector". So every Saturday afternoon I got behind a little dummy that my dad built and tossed cherry bombs and M-80s at the dog - Boom! Boom! The dog was scared at first but after awhile he got on the dummy. He got the dummy ripping apart. The head was off. Shirt was gone.
So thirteen years old birthday time got me a twelve gunned shotgun. We're going hunting. I was so excited. We went out to the clearing in the woods, my dad laid his gun down, took my gun and laid it down and said: "Son, today you're gonna learn to control your emotions. You're gonna do things that some men are not able and unwilling to do. Follow me". I followed my dad, we were running this clap of trees, there was a corral built and there was Prince Henry Stout chained in the middle of the corral.
My dad took out of pocket full cherry bombs, put them in my hand and said: "Get in the kraal, here's a lighter; I want you to light those cherry bombs and throw them at the Prince. You're gonna face manhood. You're gonna fight that dog to the death. Is he gonna kill you or you're gonna kill him. Now." He was on me. He was on me like flies on shit. I had no chance. I got my arm up in between his teeth on my neck. Wop! We're down in the mud, rolled over, rolled over, the dog is fighting, biting, scratching, kicking and I'm screaming, crying, grabbing to run to get a stand up with following with my elbow on him. Here's his neck break. He's dead. He's not breathing, he's not biting. I'm covered up with blood. I stand up, wipe the blood off. I licked it. And my dad said: "Welcome to manhood!" That's why this is a birth mark.
