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could reasonably expect to find birds. But I’m not using that for an alibi. We should have done better.”
“But, ugh! Liver! That’s what prairie chickens and grouse taste like. Why anybody would want to eat one is beyond me,” spat Rapp, the expression on his face the same as a four year old facing a plate of hied liver and onions. "Master got 18 and Jack bagged 17 in their eight days of hunting. At least Master won but its like the contest where first prize is one week in Philadelphia and second prize is two weeks. At least they didn’t make us eat that garbage. They gave it to the folks who let us use their land. The looked glad to get the birds—they must have liked liver,” said Rapp shaking his head in bewilderment.
“A couple of times of retrieving one of those jokers was enough for me. I didn't want to touch another one. But Master caught on fast. He’d watch us real carefully and could tell where the grouse came down ’cause we’d get close to one of those birds and then turn around and go the other way.” “But I enjoyed the runs and it was nice seeing new territory,” Sugar interjected. “It was better off at home. After that first night of camping in the great outdoors, Master and Jack got the right idea and moved into town to the Basset rodeo and fair grounds. They had things pretty plush, even private bathrooms with one using the
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