The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon and already Bill had moved a cord of wood blocking the canal. A hard day’s work never bothered Bill much. “A Beaver has got to do what a Beaver does best,” he always said.
“Break Time!”, Chuck yelled, jingling his thermos.
“What’s up Chuck?”
“I hate it when you say that; you know I have a weak stomach.”
“It’s probably from drinking all that nettle and dandelion tea.” Bill instantly regretted his last remark; knowing it would only provoke Chuck into an endless conversation about his multitude of ailments and how nature has a cure for everything.
“I added some ginger root today to help with my Irritable Bowl Syndrome; it really helps settle the tubing down. You know, if …”
A black bear jumped out from the bushes and stopped the woodchuck mid-sentence.
“You scared the scat right out…
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