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March 13, 2007

Jim: It's Knot What You Think

Wendell torpedoed through the high grass, his short legs pumping furiously. Then he doubled back to the berry bush, hoping the succulent fruit would distract his pursuer.

The trick only frustrated Wendell’s opponent who, in turn, reared up on tiptoes to peer over the swaying green grass. Wendell flattened onto his belly and slithered toward the tree. When his pursuer was looking the other way, he bounded up the trunk and into the hole.

“Gotcha, Weasel!” grinned the monkey, peeking into the hole.

“Pop!” giggled Wendell.

“Don’t call me that,” berated the monkey. “Your mom and I are just friends.”

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