This week with Arlene and Jeff:
...Because of the recent storm, the stream was still roaring, deeper and swifter than usual. He was afraid to try to maneuver the loaded case across the way he usually did. Instead, he went on across first, getting wet, of course. Then tying a rope around a tree, he took the other end back and tied it to the pull handle of the case. Easing the case into the very edge of the water, he slogged back across the stream, and with a bite around the tree should the case get away from him, he began pulling it across the swiftly moving water. With the current, it grounded fifty feet or so farther down the stream, but it wasn't a problem getting it back to where they could start up the hill.
The mud on the hillside had dried out sufficiently that he and Lobo managed to get the case to the top with a minimum amount of cursing.
Inside, he found the hen sitting contentedly on her nest, but Lobo immediately went over to Morales' makeshift bed of straw, sniffed and turned to grin at the man. Yep, chicken shit right in the middle.
Morales stomped over, grabbed a double handful of the straw with the chicken shit on it, and took it over to the hen. "Think that's funny, huh?" he said as he waved the straw with its pile of shit under the hen's beak. "Well, keep on bitch, and one of these days I'll be boiling your tough ol' ass for dinner."
Morales threw the straw down in front of the chicken and stomped off while Lobo stayed well out of the way and chuffed.
"I heard that," he accused the wolf as he filled his coffee pot.
Unimpressed, Lobo chuffed some more.
Have a goodun;