Nothing much happened from one day to another in Bob’s life. Each day was a complete re-run of the day before. As he sat waiting, watching and hoping for a shot at the disturbing Blue Jay that found great joy in driving him nuts, he nibbled on the last of his pancakes. A drip of syrup curled its way down to his chin. Bob wasn’t much for manners, so he didn’t do anything about it. Soon that little drip grew into a big globule and fell onto the plate, leaving a faint residue upon Bob’s chin. He intently focused on the window in front of him. How could he be responsible for the stickiness on his face. He’d get to that later.
Just as he was about to give up and call it a day, the pesty Blue Jay arrived and perched atop the mailbox. Bob became annoyed – his annoyance turned to panic – his panic drew him into a complete state of defiance. What should he do? Get the pellet gun? Call the department of natural resources? Finally the answer came to him. He found one of those flat rate shipping boxes and a butterfly net. Off he went on a crusade for the elusive Blue Jay.
Unbeknownst to the poor bird, Bob came at him from behind, encircling him with the net and placing him in the box. He addressed it to a Beagle friend in New Jersey who he wasn’t particularly fond of. No matter how hard he tried he was unable to close the container, since he didn’t have thumbs. Bob was a dog, you see.
So the Blue Jay lived to see another day and Bob, the dog would try again tomorrow.