The Branch Incident

Dear Diary,

Today there was an intruder in the backyard, and I handled it.

The morning began with a nap, as is only right. The cubby was warm, the blanket held its shape, and I slept like a dog who had nothing to prove. Then the human opened the back door and said, “Go on, Emi, go out,” and I rose, stretched, and strolled into my kingdom to conduct the daily inspection.

Fence: standing. Grass: green. Birds: absent, though I suspect they are only regrouping. Everything was in order.

And then I saw it.

There, in the middle of the lawn, lay a branch. Long. Brown. Crooked. It had not been there yesterday. I know this because I know every inch of this yard, and that was not part of it.

I stopped dead, one paw lifted. I did not blink. The branch did not move, which is exactly what something suspicious would do.

I issued a warning: a single sharp WOOF. Nothing. I tried a second, louder, with my chest puffed out. The branch remained still, smug and silent. I circled it slowly, keeping a safe distance, and barked again, a full volley this time, the kind that says you are not welcome here and you know it.

The human appeared at the door and said, “Emi, it’s a stick.” I do not accept this. A stick is something I would have approved. This was something that arrived overnight, from the sky, with unknown intentions.

I crept closer. Sniffed once, briefly. It smelled like tree, rain, and mild betrayal. I jumped back and barked at it again, to be safe. Then I gave it a firm nudge with my nose. It rolled slightly. I leapt away, barking furiously, and the human started laughing so hard she had to hold the door frame.

I stood my ground for several more minutes, barking at regular intervals, until I was satisfied it understood the situation. It did not respond, which I take as surrender.

I walked back inside with my head high, having defended the household once again without any thanks. The human said, “Good girl, you saved us from the stick.” Finally, some recognition.

I returned to the cubby, circled twice, and lay down for a well-earned nap. I will still be keeping one ear on the yard. It might try something.

Goodnight, Diary.

- Emi, Protector of the Lawn and Sworn Enemy of Fallen Branches

P.S. If it is still there tomorrow, we will be having a longer conversation.