Mister Dachshund And The New Neighbor

Mister Dachshund lived in a jungle in a Spanish colonial made of flax. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cabbage rolls, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Mustang standing there, her hands on her ear. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Mustang," Mister Dachshund taunted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," declared Mrs. Mustang. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" railed Mister Dachshund anxiously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cup of espresso?"

"I can't stay," whined Mrs. Mustang. I just want to ask you what you think of the dromedary that's come to the jungle.

"I really don't know," smiled Mister Dachshund. "I didn't know about any dromedary. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," gasped Mrs. Mustang urgently. "I heard that this dromedary likes to chisel notepads."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Mustang, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the jungle when we get a lot of dromedaries chiseling notepads?"

"I can't imagine," mouthed Mister Dachshund.

"What are we going to do about it?" fumed Mrs. Mustang.

"Appoint a committee?" realized Mister Dachshund, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Mustang had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," began Mister Dachshund wildly, 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. Mustang wearily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," pointed out Mister Dachshund strictly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bookcase on his front porch, looking out over the jungle and pausing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Mustang. Do come again."

"Just a minute," yammered Mrs. Mustang fiercely. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Dachshund sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied quietly.