CHAPTER 11
Strange Willie was grumpier than ever as he
awoke from his short after-breakfast nap. That incident with the
hound made him very sleepy and, as he slipped off into his dream
world, he grumbled to himself about missing that “dang dawg” from
twenty yards away. Now he was awake, upset because he had on only
one sock – a dirty rag that hadn’t seen soap or water in more than
a month. He couldn’t remember when he had taken off the other sock
or even where he left it. Uttering a few groans, he pulled on his
old logging boots, the left one going onto a sockless foot. He wore
farmer’s overalls, although the only farming he did was in a little
garden behind his trailer. Once every so often he would pull a
tomato or cucumber from the tangled vines that grew amid the dirt,
rock
