Current Progressive Dairy digital edition

The Manure Spreader: Uncle Jugg

Tim Moffett for Progressive Dairy Published on 19 July 2019

Let me take you back to a time of innocence. A time when I thought everything was legal as long as there was no game warden around. A time when I thought all the best places to hunt ducks had huge sand boxes, manicured fields and flags every couple hundred yards to help find our way back to the truck.

(If you didn’t get the golf course reference, please stop reading this article now.)



Every family has that one person who’s just a little more extreme and outside the box than the rest of the family. Mine was Uncle Jugg. Jugg was an avid outdoorsman and hunter. He also weighed nearly 500 pounds. Listen, you don’t weigh 500 pounds, put on camouflage, climb up into a tree stand and think the deer aren’t going to see you. In the dead of winter, you’re going to look like the only thriving tree in that forest. The deer are gonna look up and say “Yep, there’s Jugg.”

Rather than losing weight, Uncle Jugg started hunting in khaki pants and a tan shirt. He would then sit Indian-style in the middle of a field and pretend he was a round bale of hay. It worked. Just to let you know how fat Jugg was … when he was cremated, he caused a grease fire. Not really, we sprinkled baking soda on him first. However, that day, everyone around thought there was a new fried chicken joint open in town.

As a kid, Jugg took me fishing on his pontoon boat, which had a military surplus 747-carrier engine. If you have to ask why a 747 engine, then you’ve obviously never smuggled cigarettes off an Indian reservation. What did I learn on that fishing trip? You better have a big scoop net and a strong throwing arm if you’re gonna fish with dynamite. Uncle Jugg took my cousin and I on a hunting/camping trip. I should have packed better. I should have brought food.

During the trip, my cousin wanted to be a man. I just wanted to make it home alive. Four days, six guns and 2,000 rounds later – nothing. I brought a zero-degree survival blanket. Uncle Jugg brought his Betty Boop sleeping bag and one pair of clean underwear. I got yelled at for forgetting water purifying tablets, but he’s a genius for bringing 24 cases of Busch Light.

I thought about hunting and brought a turkey caller. Jugg’s first thought of being around firearms was to bring a 2-quart bottle of Wild Turkey. I brought a survival first-aid kit, and he brought Tums and two cartons of Marlboros.


Uncle Jugg was not the family member you wanted to represent you in court or your first pick to be on Family Feud. However, he was a very giving man with a huge heart that encouraged everyone to follow their own path in life. Jugg always said, “Nobody can live your life for you. So quit worrying about what others think.” end mark

Get Tim’s comedy album or your own “COWFARTT” T-shirt at Tim the Dairy Farmer.