Squirrels. Die.

Squirrels. The bane of my existence (other than that other dog that thinks she lives here).  They prance around, wagging that huge fluffy monstrosity of a tail, taunting me. I keep warning the humans, trying to sound the alarm of their evil plot to overthrow civilization. All Mommy does is rub her head. Must be a sign that she needs more kisses until she is ready to listen.

Even when I’m minding my own business, sniffing the dirt, munching on some grass in my backyard, those damn squirrels saunter out. The Head Squirrel, who we shall call Wuss, just sits on the other side of the fence, TOO SCARED to come say his chittering taunts TO MY FACE.

I let loose a fury of responses, letting that squirrel know that this is my house. Mommy joins in; I can’t hear what she’s saying over my own monologue, but I’m sure it’s shouts of support and love for my efforts to protect us from those cowardly squirrels. After 10 minutes or so, she comes out and scoops me up, rescuing me from the exhaustion that is setting in from my lengthy and impassioned speech. She is also irritated, clearly with Wuss and his ugly, beady little eyes. As she shuts the back door and whispers “silence”, I know it’s so we can meditate on our victory together.  I can still catch a glimpse of Wuss outside as we sit on the couch, and my bravery takes over as I leap to the top of the couch and continue my war cry. Mommy starts whimpering in pride. She is totally impressed with my manliness and courage. Finally, Wuss scurries up his tree, and I know that we have won the battle. The war is not over yet though. Not until I strike fear into the hearts of every single squirrel with my voice.  Mommy and Daddy will be so proud of me.

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