I am not frightened by any living thing, large or small (with the exception of Pearle). I’ve found that if you have a large enough personality, physical size plays no part in intimidation. The attitude is where my strength lies. The peeps do not call me “The Bamm!”, or “OneCoolGriff”, or the “Bamminator” because of my pretty face. (I think the face is where “Honey Baby”, “Punky Poo”, and “Mamma loves her Rammie.” come in. Oh puh-lease!)
There is the outside chance that they are poking fun at me with the tough guy names they give me. I’ll explore that possibility with my therapist on Tuesday.
Patrolling the premises wherein I live, I located an intruder. He was a bit of a creepy fellow. Long of limb, really long ears (Those are ears, right??), and the toes- he was a one-toed, bizarre bug thing. I tried to alert Mom without letting the trespasser know I was on his trail. Stealthy as I am, you know he was picking up every tiny sound with those ear whatchajiggies.
Realizing the best way to protect my family was to crawl out of there on my belly and get word to the front, I prepared to drop. Another problem presents itself at this point. That little bug has ground clearance! Look at him stand up on his four singular toes!
What if he crawls right over me and, well, does what ever it is that bugs do to gutsy Griffs once they have them right where they want them?
This was not the first dilemma I had faced (pretty sure it won’t be my last, either). I just had to stop and think. OK, the thinking part would be easy if I could just stop my nose, ears and eyes from going, going, going.
Cripes!! He’s got a bead on me (bead, beady eye, what’s the dif?)
He’s turning around and wonder of wonders, so am I!! I am so out of here.
Actually, ho-hum, I was getting a little tired of this game. This plucky bug and his feeble attempts at intimidation were beginning to wear thin.
I chose to leave before he could see he was bugging me.
I’m pretty sure this is still a victory for me.