A Girl and Her Truck

| 1/20/2016 8:50:00 AM

The Domestication of Cattle Caitlittle purple truck

I own the most beautiful truck in the world.

Alright, well, I suppose to some it may not be the most beautiful truck in the world, but to me, she’s priceless. This little truck is the first vehicle I’ve ever owned that was worth a nickel, and I’ll be darned if I let anyone ever tell me otherwise (and they surely have). Let me tell you why.

By the way, her name’s Donna.

For my whole life I dreamed of having a truck loud enough that everyone could hear her from miles away, and within three days of owning this gem, the exhaust fell off on my way to church, and now Donna hollers like a cat in a trap. My boss tells me that he can hear when I’m on my way, far from the farm. It even sounds intentional! I’ve gotten many compliments from deluded strangers about how nice my little truck rumbles, and I don’t tell them that our secret is simply a rusty exhaust system. Someday I’ll fix it. Someday is a long way off.

Now, she may not be new and shiny anymore, but she and I share a birthday (at least, that’s what I tell myself) in the great year of 1992. Donna is even a fancy, schmancy Regency Conversion truck with a retro, woodgrain interior and a bench seat straight out of a New Jersey living room. I sleep like a baby in this truck on those warm summer nights after I’ve been fishing and had a couple too many Woodchuck ciders. Just myself, the stars, and a silly, purple, step-side Chevy — sometimes even the dog, who fits comfortably in the passenger seat with her silly face hanging out the window.