My County

Howdy, pardner. Mah name is Izzi and I'm the sheriff 'round these parts. I've been patrolling this county for about two and one half years. Yup, that's an awful long time. My territory runs from the trees at the right of the driveway to the tree between this county and the next one (which I call the "blue county") in front, and from the trees and stone wall on my left to the bushes on my right, and as far back as the county goes (which is, I should point out, to the edge of the enchanted forest, where I'm not allowed to go; not after that incident with the electricity that came down from above and ran through my body..nosir, not gonna try that 'un again).

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My job is to protect the residents of this county from outsiders and varmints. I'm good at both; see for yourself. If you ever were to step foot into this county, you'd see that we have four residents and no varmints living here, so I think you could say that I do a durned rootin' tootin' good job of it (if I do say so myself). Better 'n the black cat that's the sheriff of the "blue county"; I see her wandering over into this county lots of the time, and I know for a fact that varmints in her county go there because they ain't afeared of her.

So, my day is mostly spent patrolling the front part of the county. I set myself up in my southern office, on the back of a formerly white couch. I say "formerly" because at some point in the poor object's life time, it faded a bit. Which, I should add, is a good thing, since if it was still white, I'd blend in too much and don't know whether I'd be as effective as shooing away trespassers. Anyhoo, I sit in my "office" watching the highway that runs across the property, and when a trespasser walks into the county, I commence to a-barking and a-yippin’ to a fare-the-well. It only takes me about 25 seconds to get the outsider to move outside of this county, and never ever never come back. If there's another sheriff on a leash that's dragging some trespasser along with him, I bark even louder, since it's important that the other sheriffs know who's the boss around here. And, I don't know what else you may have heard, but it's absolutely positively a falsehood to say that I sleep on the job. Sure, to the untrained eye, I may look to have both eyes closed, but I assure you that this is far from the truth.

Oh, I should also be tellin' you that I don't do this job alone anymore. Oh, sure, I'm still pretty spry and can bark with the best of 'em, but a few months ago, the townspeople voted to expand the law enforcement in these here parts, and one day, they gave me a deputy. She's a good deputy and even though we had our differences when she first started to patrol, we've found a way to bury them for the good of the county. It's usually me who's on patrol, watching the highway as I rest in my office. 

So, anyway, my deputy (Deputy Rozi) comes along with me on the back-of-the couch patrols. Her main territory, though, is the downloadwindow next to the door that leads inside the county's mansion. When we see someone moving down our highway, I commence a-yippin' and Deputy Rozi commences a-barkin' and pretty soon, that no-good trespassers has passed this county without a how-d'-ya-do.

Sometimes, there'll be a drop of supplies for the county: sometimes boxes, sometimes thin white envelopes, delivered by prob'ly the pony express, since the drop off happens and the delivery person speeds away. Deputy Rozi and I are sure to have out "drop it and move along" voices working at a fever pitch when this happens, and it works great; we have not ever let one of these delivery folk into our county for more than a few seconds, and not into this mansion ever.

But, it's not all "shooing" people along. We also have to carefully sniff out everyone who enters this mansion, making sure that they don't carry any concealed fooimagesd. It's a shame that otherwise good folk will try to sneak food into our home (without offering us some) but we do our best; there are just two of us. Sometimes we keep a-barkin' and a-yippin' long after the intruder has entered, just to be sure that they're on their toes. And, for good measure, we bark at them a second time if they've gone somewhere within the mansion and appear in our office again. Good fun!
It's also not only keeping trespassers movin' along. I also have the responsibility of making sure varmints don't enter our county. We've been perticularly plagued by giant rats with fluffy tails who seem to enjoy running out of the enchanted forest and into our county.  If I see them, I try to run out to attack them, but there are usually two problems with this strategy: (1) there are times where there's no one to open the big glass doors that protect us from the rain and the wind and the sleet and the cold, and since I don't have opposable thumbs, I am left to whine at the varmints and (2) them varmints is fast. I sprint out of the mansion and toward them at breakneck speed, a-barkin' and a-yippin' as I go. But, they're into another county or maybe even another state pretty fast. One time, I saw one of 'em run up a tree. Up a tree, if you can believe it!
So, that's the life of the Sheriff (and Deputy) of this here county. This county that Deputy Rozi and I love and protect. Our home, the County of 47 Coolidge Avenue.

Arf, Yip, Yip, Arf

(Sheriff) Izzi & (Deputy) Rozi

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