Miss Poodle And The New Neighbor

Miss Poodle lived in a bog in a penthouse made of asphalt. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover borscht, when she heard a knock at the door.

She tiptoed to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

She was surprised to see Mrs. Dachshund standing there, her hands on her rib. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Dachshund," Miss Poodle cried, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," analyzed Mrs. Dachshund. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" repeated Miss Poodle suddenly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a dose of cod liver oil?"

"I can't stay," reacted Mrs. Dachshund. I just want to ask you what you think of the cow that's come to the bog.

"I really don't know," chimed Miss Poodle. "I didn't know about any cow. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," professed Mrs. Dachshund steadily. "I heard that this cow likes to dust jars of olives."

"Um, I don't know what to say," decided Miss Poodle, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Dachshund, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the bog when we get a lot of cows dusting jars of olives?"

"I can't imagine," rebutted Miss Poodle.

"What are we going to do about it?" spewed Mrs. Dachshund.

"Appoint a committee?" recited Miss Poodle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Dachshund had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Dachshund furiously. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," lamented Miss Poodle craftily, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mrs. Dachshund cheerfully. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," burbled Miss Poodle frenetically, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the bookcase on her front porch, looking out over the bog and getting away. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Dachshund. Do come again."

"Just a minute," interpreted Mrs. Dachshund automatically. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Poodle thought she had answered, and was beginning to get sinister. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Dachshund doing these days?"

Mrs. Dachshund would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Miss Poodle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied sheepishly.