Suspected Assassination Attempt Thwarted

From Mia Cope

You never believe it will happen to you — until it does!

Before anyone gets too worried, let me assure you that I have received medical attention and that I am slowly, but surely, getting better. In fact, I’m writing this while taking it easy per Momma’s orders.

You may remember that I reported a couple of weeks ago on an investigation being launched into a criminal gang of squirrels who have infiltrated Casa de Togo. If not, you can read that post here.

Apparently, we were making some very dangerous squirrels nervous with the investigation. Yesterday, during my routine patrol of the backyard, I came across a curious object. It had been lofted over the fence by unsubs¹ and split apart on impact.

This, my friends, is a picture of one of those pieces.

Photo enlarged to show texture.

I wasn’t sure what it was and since we no longer have federal grants to support law enforcement necessities like crime labs and it looked like a biscuit, I took matters into my own hands mouth. It was a mistake, but I took a bite of one of the pieces in an effort to definitively identify the object.

You should never do that. And I know that now. Almost immediately I felt very ill and had to lie down. Momma, our chief medical officer at Casa de Togo, would later describe me as lethargic. When my tummy became very upset, she immediately sprang into action and administered a Pepto-Bismol tablet via an approved doggie Pill Pocket. I wish I could say that one dose was enough to right the wrong. However, I’m several doses in now and I’m just beginning to see a positive improvement.

Momma was also the one who went into CSI mode, searched the entire backyard, and located the remains of the suspect food item. (See picture above.)

Immediately, our Casa de Togo staff began trying to piece together the evidence. Daddy’s working theory is that someone carelessly tossed an unwanted biscuit in our backyard, thinking it would be an appreciated snack item for me and not knowing that I have a very sensitive stomach. Since the morsels were hard as rocks, he opined that they had gone unnoticed for several days and had begun to mold. (See picture above.) His thinking is that the hard-as-rocks aspect along with the mold catapulted me into a fight for my very life.²

Well, that’s one theory. Right now, my working paradigm takes on a much more sinister tone. I believe that El Shroomo and Muscles, the keen squirrel minds behind the unauthorized mushroom ring operating in the front yard, are the culprits. And all I have to do is figure out how they managed to heft that biscuit into the backyard. Indeed, they thought they could eliminate me via food poisoning and, thus, end the ongoing investigation into the criminal enterprise they have created.

But I’ve survived their assassination attempt and I’m not backing down before I get these hoodlums in custody and to trial.³

Daddy thinks I need to rest and concentrate on other things. Like exerting some will power and not sampling anything that happens to land in our backyard. I’ll take it under consideration, but I need Daddy to remember that I’m in charge here.

In the meantime, El Shroomo and Muscles, heed my warning. I’ve got my eye on you.

1. In FBI parlance, “unsub” is short hand for Unidentified Subject(s).

2. Actually, I added the fight-for-my-very-life language. While Daddy admits that I am really sick, he is confident it’s only a temporary setback and that Momma will get me through this. Plus, Dr. L and his team are only a couple of blocks away and ready to assist.

3. The feds have offered to put El Shroomo and Muscles on the next unauthorized flight to El Salvador. I’m pretty sure that’s unconstitutional and would be an outright denial of due process. And inhumane. And despite the fact I’m not human, I am very humane.