I did not ask for this. I did not consent to this. I was simply patrolling the yard, as is my right, near the bush of many scents, minding my own business with the quiet grace I am known for. And yet, there they were. Waddling with purpose. With intent.

I skadattled. There was no shame in it. Discretion is the better part of valor, and valor, I have decided, smells nothing like duck.

I have attempted to communicate my grievances to my owner. I gave him the eyes. The full eyes. He laughed. He laughed. I am not sure we are as close as I once believed.

I retreated to my corner and sat with my dignity, or what remains of it. I counted my blessings, my blanket, my squeaky ball, thebush of many scents. But even the bush felt hollow today, knowing that at any moment, tiny webbed feet could round the corner.

Tomorrow I shall try a different route to the thought the yard. Perhaps the long way. They have not yet discovered the tree of many Squirrels.

I remain hopeful. And vigilant.

Yours in suffering, Chunk 🐾