Lucy's Journal

 

Lucy’s Journal – “The Backyard Brawl Strike Force”

Dear Journal,

It’s me again, Lucy the white and tan Shih Tzu, neighborhood defender and tactical genius. Today’s mission is bigger than squirrels, bigger than mailmen, and even bigger than stealing half a sandwich off the counter.

The Pitt fans are coming.

I was lounging on the couch, dreaming about bacon, when Kiwi the Green Cheek Conure landed on my head and squawked, “Lucy, this is not a drill! The blue-and-yellow invaders are on their way into town.”

I leapt down, paws clicking on the floor like a general heading to war. “We’ll need backup,” I said. “We can’t handle all those Pitt fans alone.”

That’s when Amy’s twin ducks, the Quackers, waddled in like they’d been waiting for the call. Perfect timing.

We huddled in the backyard under the maple tree to plan:

• Kiwi would be the air force. Dive-bombing, screeching, pulling hats right off their heads.

• The Quackers would be the amphibious unit. They’re experts at sneak attacks — nothing unsettles a rival fan quite like webbed feet slapping toward them in perfect, angry unison.

• Me, Lucy and Peanut, the ground commander. Barking, weaving, and tripping Pitt fans until their terrible chants fall apart.

Our strategy was simple: chaos.

When the first Pitt car rolled down the street, blaring their fight song, Kiwi shot into the air. She swooped down and clawed the air right in front of the windshield, making the driver spill his soda. Then the Quackers waddled out from behind a trash can, quacking like a marching band gone rogue.

And me? I charged right into their tailgate crew, barking so loud a guy dropped his hot dog. I snagged it midair like a pro wide receiver. Touchdown!

The whole street turned into a battlefield. Kiwi dive-bombed hats, the Quackers nipped at ankles in perfect stereo, and I darted around like a furry missile. The Pitt fans were stumbling, shouting, and dropping snacks left and right. WVU folks walking by cheered us on like we were part of the halftime show.

By the end, the Pitt fans retreated, muttering about “those crazy Morgantown animals.” Mission accomplished. The street smelled like victory… and hot dogs.

Operation Backyard Brawl Strike Force: Success.

— Lucy 🐾