This story is about my boy Junior. My Junie Bug Jones. The Fuji Foo.

The worst week of his life started 2 or 3 or 17 weeks ago when I built him a catio.

Result? He LOVES it. So much so that he refused to grace the house with his presence and gave it the evil eye every time he stalked by.

Good thing I only spent a billion dollars and a hundred hours building it.

Instead, Junie Benjamin Jacobs preferred the cozy comforts of the nesting boxes we recently purchased for chickens.

He could not be talked out of leaving it alone. Neither could my sons, actually, for they would not stop climbing in, under, or on top of the coop. Next-door-neighbor Mary has heard me scream “GIT OUT OF THE CHICKEN COOP” so often and so loudly that she’s now filing for disability.

Anyway. Junior. Hated his house. Life carried on.

And then.

Then.

Then.Then.Then.

Then I accidentally brought home a dog.

A DOG!

I’ve been known to exaggerate a time or two on this blog. But I swear to you that this is not one of those times. I had no intention of bringing home A DOG. Or even seeing a dog that day. Are DOGS even real? Legally, I cannot say.

I’ll tell you more about THE DOG later. Because this is about Junior. Junior was there when a massive 80-pound pooch pulled into the driveway riding shotgun.

The look of deep suspicion sends me.

Junebug, by natural instinct, blew up into a spiky ball of muscle and fangs. He did that creepy, insidious sideways walk things cats do when they want to intimidate. I ran away screaming party in the USA. The dog panted. Disgruntled Junior acknowledged his failure and hid in Arrow’s bed for the rest of the night.

After a week of unholy cohabitation, the unlikely friends agreed that as long as the dog doesn’t sniff Junior’s butthole too much, then Junior agrees to tolerate her presence.

That’d be the end of it, wouldn’t you think? But NO.

Because the chickens finally moved in.

Junior was shocked to find these massive birds had invaded his nesting boxes. First, his castle had been infiltrated, and now his entire kingdom?!

This was unacceptable. When Junior saw them for the first time, he hunched down to stalk stealthily across the yard, brimming in confidence the hens would not notice his blazing orange coat. His directive was probably to complete a covert surveillance. Or maybe he just wanted to bite the heck out of them. We’ll never know because his sneak attack was interrupted. The dog saw Junior making his way across the lawn. She got excited and threw her 80 pounds of joy at his face.

I thought that really was going to be the end for him.

To be clear, Junior is sleeping, not dead. The stress of dealing with the home invasion has tuckered him out!

At the time of this writing, the hens are wandering the yard with my kids and their friends. The dog is dozing on the floor near the piano as Taylor plays a church hymn.

And Junior?

Junior is rage-napping in Arrow’s bed, where none of these blasted animals can get to him.

For Junior’s sake, surely you’re hoping that’s the end of it. But you’d also remember that this blog post title has a cute little threat of “SO FAR!”
THE SUSPENSE!

Junior seeks refuge in Arrow’s room, right? No little boys or animals to bother him there. The bed comforter rates 10/10 for naps.

Unfortunately, this haven of peace is on borrowed time because Arrow is saving for pet rats.

RATS.

He is never going to recover from this. Please send thoughts & prayers for Junior Jack Benjamin Junebug Junie B Jones Fuji Foosheefoosh Jacobs.