I did it! After all these years, I finally got the upside-down TV man!
God, I hate that guy! I hate how he hides in his hood like that. I don’t like how he always gets so scared of me. I’m the good guy (obviously!), so anyone who’s scared of me MUST be a bad guy (duh!). And I hate how he walks like he’s going to give someone a piece of his mind. So I always give him a piece of my mind.
Lately the upside-down TV man has been lurking around in the dark with his flashlight off. Why would he walk around with his flashlight off unless he was up to no good?! So each morning when we see him, he pops out of the inky blackness without warning. Bodie has taught me that if I’m a little patient and I wait until I’m within leash range and then BOOM! change directions real fast, then I can surprise Mom and she doesn’t have time to react and grab the leash. I’ve been practicing on squirrels to improve my technique.
This morning it was a new moon, and had just rained so it was extra dark and slippery. Mom is always extra nervous when it’s slippery because running on two legs makes you feel like you’re going to fall, and also means it hurts more when you hit your head on the pavement. So we were both on edge, and I made sure to yell at everyone that I saw, not just the suspicious ones.
“HEY! DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S DANGEROUS TO GO TO CHURCH IN THE RAIN?!?!”
“HEY! DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S RUDE TO COME OUT OF YOUR HOUSE BEFORE SUNRISE?!”
“HEY! DON’T YOU KNOW THAT MOM YELLS AT ME MORE IN THE RAIN? I JUST GOT YELLED AT AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”
The upside-down TV man popped out at us when we were in a narrow underpass with a wall on one side and a fence on the other. He had nowhere to hide, and Mom had nowhere to go to pull me out of leash range. This was the moment I’d been training for! I pivoted, and then I shot at him like a cannon. He turned on his light, and Mom shouted and groped for the leash, but it was too late. “HEEEEEEEEEEE-YAH!” I screamed, and punched him in the crotch. “AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT!” I shouted as Mom sprinted out of range as fast as she could, yelling at me the whole time.
“CAN YOU PLEASE LEAVE YOUR LIGHT ON SO THAT I CAN SEE YOU COMING?!” Mom shouted behind her once we were a safe distance away.
“LEAVE YOUR STINKIN’ LIGHT ON SO YOU DON’T SCARE MOM WITH MY BARKING, YOU BIG DUMMY!” I shouted.
Now when he goes home, he’s going to see a big ol’ Oscar paw mark of shame on his dumb pants, and he’s going to remember the time that Oscar the Pooch taught him a lesson! Next time I wouldn’t be surprised if he submissive pees as soon as he sees me.
-Oscar the Enforcer