Mister Dingo And The New Neighbor

Mister Dingo lived on a hillside in a Victorian mansion made of straw. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover waffles, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Buffalo standing there, his hands on his thigh. "How nice to see you, Mister Buffalo," Mister Dingo queried, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," squeaked Mister Buffalo. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" announced Mister Dingo irritably, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a latte?"

"I can't stay," enunciated Mister Buffalo. I just want to ask you what you think of the goldfish that's come to the hillside.

"I really don't know," offered Mister Dingo. "I didn't know about any goldfish. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," hissed Mister Buffalo furiously. "I heard that this goldfish likes to pound cameras."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Buffalo, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the hillside when we get a lot of goldfish pounding cameras?"

"I can't imagine," bragged Mister Dingo.

"What are we going to do about it?" railed Mister Buffalo.

"Appoint a committee?" squealed Mister Dingo, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Buffalo had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," belched Mister Dingo unnaturally, 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 Mister Buffalo glumly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," quavered Mister Dingo warmly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bath mat on his front porch, looking out over the hillside and whistling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Buffalo. Do come again."

"Just a minute," pronounced Mister Buffalo busily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Dingo sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied pitifully.