Willy the Vet

Willy the Vet wanted nothing more as a child than to live in a shot gun shack. He imagined the shack on a desolate prairie surrounded only by an endless sea of sage brush that extended to the far away horizon. Aside from the shack he would own nothing more than a Winchester rifle and the clothes on his back. 

His sole companion would be a dog. Being his sole companion, the dog would remain nameless as names are only necessary when there are more than two. The dog would be free to come and go as his want desired and thus their friendship would remain pure.

Days would blindly transition from one day to the next. They would not be marked by fictitious holidays and imagined causes for celebrations. The days would merge together seemingly without pretend disruption. The wind would blow. Every day. The summers would beg you for water, water that was to be hoarded and rationed with violent desperation. The harsh winters would be brutal and demand all to submit to a frozen death filled oblivion. 

Food would be foraged and hunted with great determination. It would never be bountiful. It would forever be barely just enough to survive. No grand buffets. No hard choices between luscious cuisines. No intoxicating wines or ambrosia.

Despite these meager impoverished conditions, he would be the king of all that he could see.