What’s the Deal with the Mailperson?
Every day, like clockwork, it happens. The rumble of a truck, the soft clink of a mailbox, and then—THEY APPEAR. The mailperson. Clad in their mysterious uniform, clutching papers and packages like they own the place. Who are they? What do they want? And why does my human act like this is completely normal? Let’s investigate this daily enigma.
1. The Stealthy Arrival
First off, how do they ALWAYS know when to show up? Rain, shine, snow—there they are, creeping up the driveway like they’re on a secret mission. And yet, my human doesn’t even flinch! Meanwhile, I’m doing my part to alert everyone within a five-mile radius. This is clearly a threat, people!
2. The Strange Packages
What’s in those packages? Treats for me? Probably not (though it should be). They’re always carrying mysterious items that they just leave behind. My human gets excited, rips the packages open, and then it’s just… boring human stuff. Like socks or books. No squeaky toys, no bones—just wasted potential.
3. The Audacity of Ignoring Me
What really gets me is how the mailperson just ignores my barking. I’m throwing out my fiercest warnings—“BACK OFF, THIS IS MY TURF!”—and they don’t even blink. No tail wag, no head tilt, nothing. It’s like they don’t even acknowledge my presence. Rude.
4. My Human Seems to Like Them
The most confusing part? My human waves at them! Sometimes they even thank them. THANK THEM?! For what? Trespassing? Leaving weird packages? If someone came onto my turf uninvited, I’d expect backup, not a smile and a friendly chat. Humans are so weird.
5. Why Do They Keep Coming Back?
Here’s the real kicker: no matter how loud I bark, no matter how intimidating I am, the mailperson ALWAYS COMES BACK. Every. Single. Day. Is this some kind of test? Are they immune to my warnings? Or do they actually enjoy being yelled at by dogs? It’s a mystery I may never solve.
My Theory
I think the mailperson is part of some elaborate human ritual. My barking? Just a side effect they’ve come to expect. They’re like a squirrel that doesn’t run away, a daily test of my protective instincts. My human seems okay with this whole arrangement, so maybe, just maybe, the mailperson isn’t all bad. But I’m still watching them.
So, What Should I Do?
For now, I’ll keep barking. It’s my duty. You never know when the mailperson might turn into a real threat (or finally deliver those treats I deserve). And hey, if it makes my human laugh, then maybe it’s not so bad after all.
