I decided to watch my neighbor all the time. Dog poop on the lawn means that I need to teach him a lesson. Sure, I might like the doggy, but I didn’t want poop on my grass, what if I fell face first on it while playing with my friends?, no, no, I needed to do something, effective but not hurtful.
Dogs like to eat nice treats, like me, like everyone, but they think less about it, so I decided to grab some special herbs, those that mom told me to never eat unless I wanted to “turn into a fountain of puke”, and make some biscuits. I left them close to the hole in the fence that Furry Joe used to enter our front yard, and went back inside to paint something cute for Boddynock while I waited for its late effect.
“Congratulations for ranking in the top 20. Your reward is this shiny brass medal” I heard my neighboor’s voice outside a couple of hours later, but when I went to see him, he wasn’t there, and in our doorstep there was a polished circle of brass with “you tried” engraved in it, and a note saying “many foes have tried to slay my peace and quiet, to soil my luxury carpet and such, not many trough my pet, but he’s smarter than you think, better luck next time kiddo”. Oh the nerve of that man!, did the dog took the biscuits to him before eating them?.
We kept going back and forth for weeks, with my plans and his snarky retorts, but at some point the poop wasn’t important anymore and I just tried to best the man, even reaching the point of asking advice from the dog, and he just quietly stared at me, before licking my face, as if saying “just keep having fun”.
One morning, I woke up to a noisy and unusual sound. The trumpet was loud, right in front of my house, and I of course, both annoyed and curious went to see what was causing it. Outside, Mr. Dachi and Furry Joe were side by side, the first carrying in his right hand the instrument of my awakening.
Little Caelynn, you have been a worthy and fun opponent, but our feud must end, I’m going back to the mainland –and despite everything I thought of him until then, I could see sadness in his face. He was an old soldier, sick and mostly tired, his birthplace called him for a final rest. He wouldn’t come back, and I cried while hugging the dog and its owner. He kept a stoic expression when giving me another medal, this time golden, and with “Worthy number 1” engraved in it.