We get a lot of high wind here on the Stretchengetti in the Cape Fear River Basin. Interesting, blows like a motherfucker. Last night we had a doozy, and, this morning, when I let Stretch out to do his business, he was all up and barking and shit. This is not unusual, but, I can tell when something is different. Something was different. The tone of his bark. I grabbed my Highway Patrolman and headed outside to investigate. You never know. I’ve had to kill for him before.
This is about a five-foot branch embedded about six inches deep in his domain. If it would have hit me, I’d be dead. I’m gonna burn it.
And for the hell of it, this is my favorite place to read a book. The Hammock Beach Garden, Shoal Bay, Anguilla, British West Indies. The rum ain’t bad either. Drinking when reading is an acquired skill. It takes practice.