THE CABIN SEEMED TO rock and I was awake. Like something had pushed it or something. But there wasn't a storm warning for this area. No wind I could feel through that open window over where I lay.
I could have been dreaming. Regardless, I was now awake.
And Bertie was barking at something. Chickens were fluttering about. So I pulled on my gumboots over my sweatpant legs, took a strong-beamed flashlight, shrugged on my chore coat, slipped into gloves and ball cap - then headed out the cabin door to see what the H__was going on.
I shown the light around the chicken house, but found Bertie was barking from the other side of the yard. She had stopped well away from that big maple and was barking as if she'd treed something up in it. But she usually got closer than that for a possum, coon, o
