Lion Head Mesa My bank account is a shoebox in the ground.

the neb was in great need of a fellahin, as the past days had been awash with sweltering heat and choking humidity, and that had horrid effects on his quality of fur.
 
looking for a helping paw in the hallway where they could be found, he saw a young, robin blue thing in a hurry, turn sharply into an alcove.

like a guided missile he trotted after, until his head poked in, and the chihuahua cleared his throat.

"uhm," he stepped clearly into view. "are ya busy right this moment, young miss?"