Dear Mr. Skunk,

Last night, you were loitering in the dog run (aka “the doggy zona”) when I sent the dogs outside. As a result, you were harassed mightily by large barking beasts determined to kill you, and you were without any easy means of escape. Your spray, noxious as usual, missed its intended targets. (The dogs say, “NENERNENER.”)

Your choice to wander (or climb?) into the zona, I must confess, was not terribly wise. I limited the dogs to the zona — rather than allowing them to roam over our whole five acres — in part to avoid you and your malodorous spray. Yet there you were, under the pine tree. Honestly, I think you could have done better, if you’d just put a bit of thought into the matter.

Might I suggest that you scavenge elsewhere? No, I don’t mean my vegetable garden. I’d recommend trying the offerings of my neighbors. Their dogs are older and slower than mine, I’m sure.

With Warm But Distant Regards,
The Management