Werefox Vaquero--a walk in the park

   
   "Werefox Vaquero--a walk in the park"
   
   They called it Classic Rock now.  Max was kinda/sorta a young whippersnapper, though he adored the classics, once having watched an old concert by a rock band, the guitarist saying that the electrical song about to be played had nothing to do with alcoholism, nor a lewd lifestyle; specifically, it was a symbolic walk in the park.
   Max knew that wolves spent 80% of their day walking.  In almost constant motion.  Upon that wildlife knowledge, not esoteric a bit--he decided to get a dog.  A pal.  A loyal sidekick and eager friend, always wanting to please; next, jump in a creek, and just be the perfect dog that God constructed it to be.
   Max knew about Coydogs, the Golden Retriever, the Pomsky, and the youthful spirit of the tough terrier.  He decided to grab an old school newspaper, see what was possibly happening outside of Arizona, and when at the convenience store, he also picked up some Gatorade and a pack of breath mints, very frosty, telling the cashier as he made his cowboy exit:  "Have a cool one, ma'am."
   Yeah, some folk still give a holler to hope and Heaven--casual cool.