The Case of The Curious Canine Clan

 My Outer Kingdom has been invaded.

Over the last week, I bore witness to no fewer than four dog thingies running and cavorting through my front yard.

Obviously, this does not amuse me.

That being said, I am also aware that my options for putting a stop to their incursions are somewhat limited. I could command Sheba (the feral I hired to annoy the squirrel thingy) to confront the dog thingies, but given the four-to-one odds, that would be ill-advised. I have already made the two leggers aware of the trespassers and they have had some success in chasing the dog thingies away, but that success is temporary at best and as soon as the two leggers leave for work, the mutts return.

So for the moment, I have decided to observe.........and plot.

The dog thingies seem to belong to some two leggers who are staying at the neighboring house. The smallest of them appears to be their leader. Judging by his small stature he is obviously a chihuahua/field mouse hybrid. He is always in the company of a large, male german shepherd who though large, seems to be mentally challenged and unable to function without direction from the tiny beast. There is also a mid-sized, female poodledog that is in a state of constant complaint. The fourth member of the poochy party was a female irish setter.

I sat watching the canine crowd as they cavorted through the trees, romping, playing and befouling my yard with impunity. After several hours of this, I could take no more. Smacking on the bay window, I managed to attract the attention of their leader.

"Wut de ye want?" he yapped.

"I want you to leave my yard post-haste" I replied.

"Aye, I figured as mooch, boot me an me clan, dun wanna leeve jist yet, ye ken?"

"Wait a sec, you're a chihuahua, aren't you supposed to be from Mexico?" I asked.

"Oooooh sure, profiling me are ye? As a matter oov fact, I am oonly a chihuahua on me Da's side. Me dear ol Mum was a scottish wolfhound. Me Da wuz wee, boot ambitious. Me name is Angus McTavish Martinez and I'll noot stand fer any oov yer guff, ye ken?"

Letting that stand for a moment, I decided to learn more about his "clan".

"Weel, dat big german shepherd over dere is called Caligula. He hails froom  Paris. He's a wee bit thick in his noggin, boot he kinna be be stooped once he gets his dander oop.  Dat french poodle wut's always complainin, she's froom Germany. Her name be Lion Pansy. She is moostly useless, we mainly keep her aroond in case we ever get loost an needta resort to cannibalism. Finally, dat irish setter over dere is Steve. I dunno why her name is Steve, boot she hails froom India. She's a wee bit daft inner heed, tends to keep herself to herself and has an odd habit oov suddenly singing Irish drinking songs."

Against my better judgement and professional bias against all dog thingies, for some reason I found myself warming up to this little band of butt sniffers. Despite the fact that they were dog thingies, there was something about them I just couldn't put my paw on, that somehow appealed to me. Perhaps, they could even be useful.

"Well, since you're here, would you mind doing me a great service?" I asked.

"Suuure, if ye poot it dat way, I might be amenable." 

"Well, you see, there is a squirrel thingy out there that annoys me on a daily basis. If you could see yourself fit to eradicate him, I would be very grateful".

"Nae laddie, dis I kinna do. I'd be appy tae chase 'im around a bit, boot I willna keel him." 
 
"Why on earth not?" I asked.

"Weel, when I woz just a wee bairn, I wozz veery proudt of meself after having keeled meself one of the tree-dwellin vermin. When me dear ol Mum found out woot I had doon, she whipped my bahookie and called me a grit gabberlunzie. Ye see, in the oold country, skwurls are considered beneficial and therefore sackred".

"How could squirrel things possibly be considered beneficial?!?"

"Aye, I thot ye maybbe curious aboot dat. Ye see, skwirls are goot fer keepin da nut population doon. So oover in Scotland, we line em oop on da suttern border and dey keep da British oot."

I found myself completely unable to refute his logic.

Angus was true to his word and for the next several days, Angus and Company generally made the squirrel's life hell.

This morning, the neighbor's guests packed up and went on their merry way. I must confess, I may even miss Angus and his Clan. They provided many hours of amusement. And whenever the male two legger steps in one of their leavings, I amused even more.

I just wish I could figure out who they remind me of.....