40 or so years ago, my old man would take me and Duke, a beagle, huntin fer rabbits up at his buddy's farm. Duke would make a beeline fer the cows on accounta his favourite thing in the whole world was rollin in fresh cow shit.... wasn't Dad's favourite thing.

Maybe that's why he gave Duke back to Old Man Towns when we moved "back home". I didn't speak to Dad for a year after he gave my dog away. Then again, I wasn't the one that cleaned the cow shit offina Duke neither. Spose, at 9 years old, I was as dumb as that dog maybe.