The Scarecrow Part 2

 

I was tied to a pole in the middle of a field; I was a Foley crow, determined to get free and make my way home, where I would evict the Scarecrow, stick him back on the pole to which I was attached, and save my family. But first, I had to get down. 

 

Pocket was right about one thing: No one paid attention to a scarecrow. I saw Angel after Angel coming to sniff the grass in the field, and none of them noticed me tied to the pole. Finally, I noticed my friends Hobo and Tommy passing by, and I yelled for help. Hobo has good hearing, but he was confused about where I was until Tommy spotted me tied to the pole. They asked me what I was doing when I told them about the Scarecrow. They untied me while admonishing me for letting him into the house and breaking a critical Angel axiom: Never trust a scarecrow. 

 

Tommy and Hobovolunteered to help me chase the Scarecrow out of my home, but I didn’t want to put them in danger. When I got home, I wished I had taken them up on their offer. 

 

The house was filled with scarecrows; I snuck under a window and listened to them, which is when I heard them planning a Bridge takeover, and I was the only one who could stop them. 

 

First, I had to find my family. I sniffed around the foundation and smelled Pocket’s scent: Fear emanating from the basement. I had to sneak into the house and free them, but I needed help. 

 

I have always maintained a friendship with the birds, which I often use to poop on cruel human mortals. I whistled for a flock as they flew by, and I asked them to raise a squawk outside the front door while I snuck in the back. Being the historical enemy of scarecrows, they were delighted to help.

 

Scarecrows have incredible sight but no noses, so while they were watching the crows raise a front yard ruckus, I snuck in the back, then down the stairs where I freed my family. 

 

I asked my manically inclined brother Jax the papillon if he had anything in his basement laboratory to drive the scarecrows from our home. When Jax suggested a flame thrower, Pocket, despite being duped, begged us not to set the intruders afire. 

 

I had a better and less destructive plan. I snuck my siblings into the backyard, where the garden hose was. I turned it on and had Blake open the door at the count of three. Then I blasted the scarecrows with water. They tried to escape, but they became too weighed down with wet straw. While keeping the nozzle on them, I called the authorities: Namely Sheriff Benjamin, who, along with his team of Deputy Dogs, apprehended the criminals. 

 

Once they were in custody, Benjamin told me the scarecrows were farmers who had severely abused their livestock and were sentenced to watch over the gardens for eternity. They had been scheming a takeover, but thanks to us, they were apprehended. I told Benjamin we were happy to help and left out the part where Pocket had freed the ringleader. 

 

The next day Pocket and I saw the Scarecrow back in the garden. Pocket swore never to take in another sad soul, and I told her I wished she would keep doing it. We need more kind angels. 

 

Pocket happily agreed but promised no more scarecrows. I shuddered to think who would be next.