It took alot of political wrangling on my part, but difficult negotiations have resulted in a peace accord between the Squirrel Kingdom and Min-Pin Nation. A demilitarized Zone (DMZ) has been established, along with promises from both sides in order for this document to be "signed". If paw prints will suffice as binding, then this deal might actually work. On behalf of the pooch patrol, Ozzy made compromises that are a sweet deal for his bushy tailed counterparts.
A permanent border has been established along the boundary of our manicured yard and the tree line. UN peacekeepers (mice) have been stationed along this new DMZ to enforce the treaty, but it seems apparent to us the sqirrels are not fully complying with this new agreement. Thus far there have been several complaints from Ozzy and company. This morning Ozzy charged the squirrels with breaking the treaty by lauching acorn rocket attacks while he was leaving a calling card on the edge of the lawn (the West Bank). Twice Mack attempted to mark a tree (the Oak Tree Gaza Strip), only to be harassed by marauding tree rats. To make matters worse, the animal version of the United Nations passed nine resolutions condemning my dogs for the incidents. Just an hour ago, several squirrels were placing pine cone bombs in various places within the doggie boundary. Another resolution was brought to the floor of our UN once again blaming the dogs. Now the squirrels want us to give up half of the yard, and there was a kidnapping attempt on Chrissy. Ozzy says he's had enough... there can be no peace.
Within fifteen minutes of this last breech, I let the dogs out once more to do the doggie thing. They immediately hit the woodline, barking in all directions. The squirrels weren't expecting a suprise raid and ran in a free-for-all frenzy to the closest tree they could find. It seems everything is once again as it should be. Ozzy is still high-fiving, fist pumping, and chest bumbing with the rest of the gang. It takes the phrase "You go dog" to another level. He says everything has returned to normal.
Nothing is ever "normal" around here. Think about it... I talk to a dog, who responds in kind. Ozzy is always stirring up trouble, I get left holding the bag, and he gets away with his foolishness. Normal is everybody else. In the immortal words of the great sage Henry Fluker (my neighbor), "Ya'll ain't right". Henry's diagnosis is correct. Now I'm just waiting on the Men in the White Coats!
You are too funny!
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