Miss Ox And The New Neighbor

Miss Ox lived on a seacoast in a park bench made of flour paste. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover egg salad sandwich, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Pigeon standing there, his hands on his stomach. "How nice to see you, Mister Pigeon," Miss Ox called, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," inquired Mister Pigeon. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" retorted Miss Ox ferociously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a tequila sunrise?"

"I can't stay," spouted Mister Pigeon. I just want to ask you what you think of the weasel that's come to the seacoast.

"I really don't know," burbled Miss Ox. "I didn't know about any weasel. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," intimated Mister Pigeon later. "I heard that this weasel likes to grip fire hoses."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Pigeon, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seacoast when we get a lot of weasels gripping fire hoses?"

"I can't imagine," intoned Miss Ox.

"What are we going to do about it?" opined Mister Pigeon.

"Appoint a committee?" professed Miss Ox, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Pigeon had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mister Pigeon recklessly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," sobbed Miss Ox vacantly, 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 Mister Pigeon fearfully. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," explained Miss Ox oddly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the futon on her front porch, looking out over the seacoast and glaring. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Pigeon. Do come again."

"Just a minute," retorted Mister Pigeon fearlessly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Ox sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied sympathetically.