The alarm blaring throughout the building. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. Over and over. As a figure stood behind the door. It smiled a sinister smile. Mischievous plans behind that oh-so innocent face. I inspect the door, and a sudden urge to bark emerges. My bark, a sound that will strike fear and terror into the hearts of Girl Scouts.

It stood there with its dreadful braids and its selfish smirk. I could see right through it and its peanut butter patties. I am the protector of this facility, I am the guard, and I will do my job. I barked and barked. But it bested me. As my owner jogged to the door I began to whimper. “Please, no, don’t open it!” I pleaded. My voice ceased to fall upon my owner’s deaf ears (not really deaf).

The door creaked open, and it grinned. In its high pitched voice it said, “HI! Would you like to buy some cookies? It goes to a good cause, and I can guarantee a blast of flavor and satisfaction in every bite!” Nothing is guaranteed, I thought. My owner replied “Tempting, but I’m on a diet. Maybe my kids will want some. Hold on.” The children had already overheard and zoomed out of their quarters. My heart was racing. Just then, the monster of a girl scout sentenced me to death with. “Can I pet your dog?” I shuddered at the thought of my inevitable fate. “Of course! Go right ahead!” my owner agreed. I barked as LOUD as I could. No reaction. My owner tugged at my collar as the girl watched expectantly. It crouched at my level, mocking my height. So I braced my mighty legs and snarled aggressively. Revealing my dagger sharp canine teeth. I growled and prowled forward. Ready to attack. But my attempts are meaningless. Meaningless I say. It lunges forward its outstretched arm and taunts me with a series of pettings. Make it stop! Make it stop! I can’t take it anymore, I signaled my owner. My owner, my master, my family betrayed me. Who I’ve loyally served. Whose children have been entrusted protection from me. So I had to protect myself.

So I had to protect myself. Can you blame me? This was my duty. To protect my family from harm. Even if they don’t see the danger coming their way. I must. I growled a warning one more time! And bit its hand. My teeth sunk in its pudgy little hands. Yet no cries of pain. No shrieks of terror. Only a tiny, “aww. It’s, playing with me!” And my owner. My trusted homosapien companion. Chuckled at my efforts. So I dashed for her cookies. Out the door. Swiftly maneuvering around her with a whoosh. Considering my “purchase.” I think I would like some thin mint cookies in exchange for her foul behavior. But then I thought. No, if I’m the heroic dog I truly claim to be, I must claim my prize and so much more. To prove my strength. My mighty will and determination. I gallantly pounced on the bright red wagon. Pulling it from the tar black handle.