About two hours later, Mark was at the front door, trailed by George. Mark had a hangdog appearance, his hands thrust into his jeans pockets, a guilty... embarrassed expression on his face, his eyes focused on some insignificant item on the ground."Go ahead, son. Tell him," prodded George.Mark wanted to look anywhere but at me. Eventually, in a very quiet and nervous voice, he said, "I'm sorry for what I did, Mr Jenkins. It won't happen again."I was thinking that Mark probably wasn't one hundred. Lobo sniffed and put his front feet on the case to smell the hide again. "And you still can't piss on it," he added. "Go piss on the carcass if you want to." Then the thought hit. "Oh, shit. I'm surely not going to eat the meat, but I know for a fact that you will eat it," he said as he let the case settle into its resting position again.Shortly, he had added a big chunk of cat meat to the already heavy case.Crossing the stream with a loaded case was fun, as always – not. Finally across, and. More

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