For the past year, we had waged war on the feral cats who snuck under our house, damaged our dual HVAC unit and caused us to have a very chilly weekend before it was fixed.
Until they lost the heat, my parents took a cavalier attitude towards the kitties invading our southern border. "They aren't hurting anything," my parents said. They had unwittingly created a sanctuary crawl space under the house. Their policy of open skirts had resulted in a hefty heating repair bill.
My parents finally understood they needed to secure our southern border. Still, they would not listen to me about the necessity for a wall. They took extra care in making sure they had a tight skirt.
One day last week as I was looking for the perfect spot for a daily double poop and pee I dragged Poppa past the HVAC unit. The piece of the skirt by the unit was pushed in. I wanted to give him my superior I told you so look, but that's hard to do while popping.
Papa came inside and told Momma about the damaged skirt. "Damn cats," she said. It was a far cry from "they aren't hurting anyone." My parents began to scheme how to keep the cats out.
The following Saturday they went to Home Depot for supplies. That Monday they began Operation Pussy Block.
Poppa removed the skirt from the driveway side of the house. My parents shove anything they no longer have use for there. Lying on the dark cement are gutters, broken air conditioners, old printer, unused siding and skirts, and paving stone
Poppa removed the paving stones, put them on a dolly and went to the HVAC unit side of the house. I was supervising momma in the garden, so I did not witness what he was doing. Later I saw him take things from the trunk, but I could not tell what they were. What was happening on our southern border was a mystery to me.
It wasn't until we had completed the work day that I got to inspect the new kitty batter. There were eight bricks stacked alongside the unit where the skirt meets it to keep cats from sneaking inside. I went to the skirt and sniffed. I could smell the paving stone, and the smell went up instead of staying flat. I stepped back and smiled because they had not built a wall. They had made three.
I had an enjoyable evening waiting for my parents to thank me for the wall idea, but they never did. I went to bed disgruntled then fell asleep and entered my papa's dreams.
“I see you took my advice and built a wall,” I said.
“I did no such thing,” Dream Papa said. “I stacked up some stones and brick. That does not make a wall. “
I was stunned. “Of course that’s a wall. That is the very definition of a wall. It is an impediment.”
“There are lots of impediments,” Papa said. “What I built is more of a barricade. We would not build a wall.”
I had trouble getting back to sleep when I awoke from the dream. First, no one would listen to the Griffon, and now no one would give due credit to the Griffon.
But, I did not need credit. The most important thing to me is to have our southern border secure, and now thanks to me, and my very big brain we will never be invaded at our southern border again.