Mister Wallaby And The New Neighbor

Mister Wallaby lived on a mountaintop in a trough made of balsa. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover applesauce, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" noted Mister Wallaby gruffly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Mudslide?"

"I can't stay," whimpered Mrs. Rooster. I just want to ask you what you think of the cougar that's come to the mountaintop.

"I really don't know," spat Mister Wallaby. "I didn't know about any cougar. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," sniffed Mrs. Rooster suspiciously. "I heard that this cougar likes to replace pens."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Rooster, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mountaintop when we get a lot of cougars replacing pens?"

"I can't imagine," reacted Mister Wallaby.

"What are we going to do about it?" cackled Mrs. Rooster.

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

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

"Well that's a fine idea," swore Mister Wallaby deliberately, 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. Rooster cautiously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," squeaked Mister Wallaby automatically, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the file cabinet on his front porch, looking out over the mountaintop and muttering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Rooster. Do come again."

"Just a minute," cajoled Mrs. Rooster gruffly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Wallaby sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied cunningly.