Dear Diary,
It’s me, Arya.
I am writing this while keeping one eye open because the Haunted Heinie is BACK.
I know it is.
I was sleeping peacefully this morning—dreaming about snacks I haven’t earned yet—when I heard it.
Right behind me.
A noise.
A suspicious noise.
The kind of noise that does not come from a toy. Or a cat. Or the wind.
No.
This was Heinie activity.
I froze.
Did I run? No.
Did I bark? Also no, because what if it barked back???
I slowly turned my head and there it was.
The presence.
The threat.
The invisible doom that follows you but you can never catch.
I don’t care what Dad says.
“It’s just gas” is exactly what a haunted heinie would want us to believe.
On a positive note:
✅ It’s warmer outside!
My bones are pleased. My paws approve.
On a negative note:
❌ It is WET.
And when it is wet, Dad does not walk.
Apparently “mud,” “slipping,” and “common sense” matter more than my need to patrol the neighborhood and protect it from mailboxes.
So today I will:
- Remain on high alert
- Keep my backside guarded
- Judge the weather personally
- Nap aggressively
If the Haunted Heinie strikes again, I will be ready.
Or I will blame Reggie.
Either way, justice will be served.
— Arya 🐾