Mister Chihuahua And The New Neighbor

Mister Chihuahua lived in a canyon in a penthouse made of string. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fried eggs, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Wallaby standing there, her hands on her horn. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Wallaby," Mister Chihuahua grunted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," sniffed Mrs. Wallaby. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" whimpered Mister Chihuahua sympathetically, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a bottle of rum?"

"I can't stay," babbled Mrs. Wallaby. I just want to ask you what you think of the Dalmatian that's come to the canyon.

"I really don't know," breathed Mister Chihuahua. "I didn't know about any Dalmatian. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," retorted Mrs. Wallaby crankily. "I heard that this Dalmatian likes to archive stones."

"Um, I don't know what to say," stuttered Mister Chihuahua, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Wallaby, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the canyon when we get a lot of Dalmatians archiving stones?"

"I can't imagine," jeered Mister Chihuahua.

"What are we going to do about it?" exploded Mrs. Wallaby.

"Appoint a committee?" stammered Mister Chihuahua, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Wallaby had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," mumbled Mister Chihuahua majestically, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding himself on this committee.

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

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," chuckled Mister Chihuahua admiringly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the ping-pong table on his front porch, looking out over the canyon and knitting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Wallaby. Do come again."

"Just a minute," yelped Mrs. Wallaby wryly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Chihuahua thought he had answered, and was beginning to get shifty. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Wallaby doing these days?"

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

Mister Chihuahua sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied demurely.