Old Willy ran a modest farm at the edge of town. Willy was famous about town for owning a particularly stubborn ass who refused to pull the cart uphill.

Every morning, a proud cock crowed from the fence post, waking a flock of tits that nested in the hedge nearby. The ass barely twitched an ear.

Willy's dog, a loyal little bitch named Daisy, patrolled the yard, feigning bites at any thistles that dared grow near the vegetable rows and trying to keep painful pricks out of her mouth. She'd worked here since she was a pup, and Willy often said she'd earned her keep a hundred times over.

His neighbor Dick stopped by most afternoons, usually with a canvas fanny pack slung round his waist. It was full of chickenfeed. The two men would sit and laugh as the pussy cat who ruled the barnyard chased mice across the yard, noticing how the old rug by the door had gone thin from years of boots and paws dragging over it. It had practically shagged away to nothing.

Come harvest, Willy's grandson would visit, always complaining that raking the yard was a total crap-shoot depending on the wind. His grandfather would just shrug and hand him another rake.

By evening, the animals settled--the ass dozing by the barn, the cock silent at last, the tits tucked into the hedge. Willy would sit on the porch with Dick, content, watching the sun sink behind the fields and think, "This is the life."

[On edit: Oh, absolutely got the profanity tag!]