Hey, frendz! Your tail wagging JournoDog here, but your favorite hard-hitting journalist is under literal fire. Well, not fire. Feathers.
Usually, this dog is a seeker of peace, harmony, truth, and freshest backyard scoops and poops.
But a major security threat has developed. Mean feathered menaces have invaded. These are not the fun real life quackers I so loved to watch on the waterfront as a Deck Dog.
These are mean birdies out to get me! These backyard birdies are not here to co-exist. They are actively hunting me. Me! The (doctor-verified) absolute sweetest boy ever to exist.
What happens in the yard?
I’ve sniffed the sniffs and looked up to the sky to uncover a highly coordinated, three-step strategy designed to disrupt my daily reporting:
- Birdie Surveillance: As soon as I step out to sniff the sniffs and check the morning or afternoon headlines on the grass, they appear Sitting way up on the power lines and high tree branches, staring down with tiny, unblinking eyes. They are tracking my movements.
- Acoustic Warfare: Their chirpy-chirps are relentless. It is not a pretty song. It is a loud, mocking tactical tune designed to distract me from my journalistic duties.
- Aerial Assault: Then, they forsake the line into attack mode. Simple me is minding my own business, nose-deep in a scent-trail near the fence, when suddenly they execute direct dive-bombing maneuvers. They’ve even hit my tail and top of body a couple times!!!
As much as I want to greet them, it’s scary so this peaceful boy just flees back to the door so Dad can let me inside where the ceiling skies are safe.
The JournoDog Impact
These mean birdies are messing with journalism and my most sensitive personal business.
Beyond being a canine correspondent sniffing da sniff is and digging up leads, I’m also a professional-recognized poopsie perfectionist.
This means I require absolute, uninterrupted focus to locate the best backyard yard zone to poopsie.
Finding the perfect zone is a refined, highly technical process involving at least 15 minutes, pre-poopsie zoomies around yard, and intense focus.
But because of these mean birdies, I do’s the distract!
Every time I am about to finalize the paperwork to drop a deposit on the grass, a mean birdie swoops down and breaks my concentration.
[Enter Ezekiel 25:17 reference here.]
It is incredibly tough to focus when you are being targeted by these mean birdie bullies. Everything turns to chaos, and that’s a ladder to more chaos.
A ‘Classic’ Canine Caper?
I brought this up to my managing editors, Ma and Dad.
They watched the aerial assault from the safety of the kitchen window, but instead of calling in air support, they just glared and said it was like an old “Birdie” movie. movie. It’s a “classic,” they said.
Now, I’m a dog, so I am not entirely sure what “classic” means. However, based on my reporting data:
- Ma and Dad are hooman “classics” themselves.
- They mentioned this movie has “no color” in it.
- That must mean this Birdie movie must be completely ancient. Like, from the dinosaur times before kibble was invented. I do not know why an ancient, colorless movie is happening in our modern green yard, but I’m intimidated regardless.
To ne fair, Ma and Dad did come OUTSIDE with me to keep watch during times when big ball of yellow is shining bright in sky. That seems to keep mean birdies away, or at least from swooping down to dice-bomb me.
Hootie Owl-iver
Coincidentally timed, the backyard has also been invaded by a new, silent sentry.
It’s perched atop the new raised planter beds — the ones that tower over my head, safely guarding those smelly, forbidden salad herbs.
This creature is unnerving. The moment I approach, it swivels its head around to fix me with a cold, demon-eyed glare.
Ma and Dad call him “Owl-liver.” I named hom Hootie 🦉 for simplicity.
Rumor has it Hootie is a tactical tool by the hoomans to stop those mean chirpy-chirp birdie gangs from dive-bombing my head.
While I appreciate the air support, I’m not sure I trust a garden guest that stares or hoots at me like that.
I’ll keep my distance, but I’m keeping a very close watch on this suspicious new recruit.
JournoDog’s says…
To the mean birdies: You may chirpy-chirp all you want. You may dive-bomb my head and tail. You may distract my poopsie focus.
But rest assured, JournoDog will never stop sniffing out the truth. Even if I need to flee back to the door from time to time.
Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to go bark at the side door until Dad opens it to give me a protective cookie from the treat bag on top of the cold food box with doors.
Until the news barks or beckons my attention again, JournoDog out. Stay safe out there, truth-seekers
Remember, always love your pets. Of their pet birdies, love them so they won’t be meanies. Support local journalism and truth. And make sure to find smiles and happz for your heart every day.
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