The Mopwater Files Read Online Free PDF

Now, I can’t find enough things to do to burn up all this energy.”
    â€œThat was quite a grasshopper.”
    â€œA what? Oh yes, of course. The, uh, grasshopper. Yes indeed, that was quite a . . .” My ears shot up. They had just picked up the sounds of an Incoming Vehicle. “Come on, son, we’ve got an interception job to do. Hot dog!”
    â€œYeah, that’s me. I’m a hot dog and I don’t want to run, ’cause that’ll just make me a hot dogger. I’ll meet you around front.”
    I hit Full Throttle, spun all four paws on the gravel, and went ripping around the south side of the house. I intercepted the I.V. up by the shelter belt and provided escort all the way to the front of the machine shed.
    Actually, I did more than that. I got bored with mere escort duty and began biting the front tires. Yes, I knew it was dangerous, but I didn’t care. I seemed to have developed a taste for danger.
    And that’s odd, isn’t it? I mean, all this wild energy had come from a bucket of PLANT FOOD. By George, if that stuff had affected Sally May’s shrubberies and flowers the way it affected me, they’d have been running all over the ranch.
    Wouldn’t that have been something to see, Sally May chasing her petunias and dragonsnappers and hollyhockers through the home pasture?
    Well, I was having such a big time snapping at the tires that I didn’t notice to who or whom the pickup belonged. Or to put it another way, I didn’t notice that the driver was Billy, our neighbor to the east.
    Do you remember Billy? Maybe not. The most important detail I can tell you about Billy is that he had several dogs, and one of them happened to be the most gorgeous collie gal in the whole world.
    And you’ll never guess who was sitting in the back of the pickup.

Chapter Six: I Prepare to Thrash the Neighborhood Bully

    B y the time Billy stepped out of the pickup, I had already done Date and Mark on all four tires. I could tell that he was impressed.
    He walked over to Slim, who was still sitting in the shade with a handful of grease and trailer bearings. “What have y’all been feeding that dog? In this heat, I can hardly get mine to scratch a flea. Old Hank’s running around like a pup in January.”
    Slim shrugged. “Beats me. A little while ago, the crazy outfit chased the cat up this tree—and fell on top of me. I liked to have had a stroke. What’s up?”
    â€œOh, I need to borrow some 6011 welding rod. You got any?”
    â€œWell,” he grunted and pushed himself up, “let’s go see. Boy, it’s hot. Makes a guy wish he could rent a big watermelon and move into it for the rest of the summer.”
    They shuffled into the machine shed. It was then that I turned my attention to the back of the pickup and saw . . . mercy! There she was, the girl of my dreams, just as I had seen her so many times in my slumbering sleepiness.
    The dewberry eyes. The long collie nose. The flaxen hair. The perfect collie ears . . . holy smokes, my heart stopped beating and I forgot to breathe.
    It was the lovely Miss Beulah.
    After almost dying of joy and excitement, I snatched myself back from the brink of the edge and regained my composure. I wiggled my eyebrow three times and gave her my most swavv . . . swaav . . . swwaav . . . most charming smile.
    â€œWell, my goodness! Hath the sun risen before us in the middle of the day or is this Miss Beulah the Collie?”
    I shall never forget her words. She said, “Hello, Hank.”
    Beautiful. Pure poetry. I could sense that she was still madly in love with me and that our romance would begin just where it had left off, just as though we had spent every minute . . .
    Bird dog? There seemed to be a bird dog sitting on the opposite side of the pickup. He was giving me a lopsided grin.
    â€œHi Hank. By golly, it’s great to see you again. How about this weather? You ever seen such