“Now Mamie,” said Windy Wilson, “the reason I expurgated myself over here to your place was to see how you was a-doin’ in this year heat.”
Mamie Dilworth refilled his iced tea glass, smiled at the old cowboy and camp cook. “Well, that’s awfully nice of you, Windy. I’m fine. Tired of this heat, just the same as everyone else around here.”
“I hear ya, and thanks for the tea. It helps a guy cool down, refrigerationally speeakin’ a-course.”
“You’re welcome. What are you and Ramses up to these hot days?”
Ramses was Windy’s dog, so named because of his tendency to leave pyramids in the backyard. Windy claims he’s an Egyptian shepherd, but hasn’t been able to provide any registration papers yet.
“Pickup truck therapy, you know. Works put-near ever time it’s tried. Long’s a guy don’t run outa gas, he’s okay. Cool right down on a hot ol’ day like this one.”
“I didn’t know your pickup had air conditioning, Windy.”
“Mostly it’s a cowboy 260 air conditioner,” Windy explained. “You get your shirt and your dog wet, roll down two windows and go sixty miles an hour.”
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