Hello. Detective Max speaking. Recently, I’ve made a very paw-erful discovery that I will share with the world (I’ve got to hurry though. I’m writing on my owner’s computer before she gets back from CHEM 132 — whatever that means).
Ever since I was brought to the University of Rochester, I’ve been making careful observations. As a service dog, this is my duty: to protect the students of URochester. Recently, that safety has been threatened by a mystery, so it is my job to solve it.
As a hooman, have you ever wondered where your tuition money goes? There’s no way that keeping the lights on, the rooms functioning, and the magical water fountains running would cost THAT much. Sometimes when I go on walks, the sidewalks aren’t even salted! My paws are fur-eezing! It’s not a secret that URochester costs a ton of money to attend (my owner tells me about it all the time). However, all that goes into the buildings CANNOT cost as much as my owner says (I mean, $90,000?!? That’s enough to supply all the dogs on the planet with squeaky toys. Probably. I don’t actually know how money works. I’m a dog). So, back to the real question: Where is the money actually going?
It’s simple, really. What is there a strange abundance of on campus? Think about it. Are we thinking about the same thing? Okay, let’s say it together. 3… 2…1… SQUIRRELS!
Maybe it’s just the ADHD in me, but I’ve always noticed the suspicious amount of those small, brown rodents, climbing up the weird vines and chattering amongst themselves. Just last week, I chased one up a tree, and I swear it squeaked, “Come and get me, bitch!!” First of all, kind of rude of them to assume my gender. Second of all, I’m pretty sure I just got catcalled. Dog-called? Anyway, I’m not really looking for anything like a relationship. In fact, I’m actually neutered because I kept trying to fuck the sofa in Susan B. Anthony Hall. I eventually left and tried to tell my owner about the whole squirrel-sitch that just happened, but she just fed me my afternoon kibble and told me to stop barking.
But… I just know they’re planning something. While my owner was busy with their electronic device, I took off on one suspicious looking squirrel, and ran head-first into a bush. And what I saw in that bush blew my stinky breath away. A full-blown underground squirrel operation! I saw elaborate tunnel systems (similar to the tunnel system used by hoomans) as well as a map of the whole city. There were a bunch of labs that smelled of the strange chemicals. There were squirrel mechs being built. There were thousands of squirrels, big and small, scurrying everywhere. One group specifically caught my eye. There were about five of them standing, stacked, on top of each other, cosplaying as a business hooman. The fake hooman had a suit and tie, complete with a name plate that had “Evans Lam” on it. Evans Lam!? The financial advisor on the board of trustees!!??? This is undeniable proof that squirrels were using the money from URochester students to supply their own army! And if they’ve already infiltrated the board of trustees, then that must mean they’re very close to reaching that goal. If it weren’t for my owner pulling me away from the bush at the very last moment, I would’ve had them! Every last one of those dang’ed rodents!
So now, I’m typing this to urge you, dear URochester student, to take a stand (or a sit). The next time you see a squirrel, chase it. And if you lose it, don’t worry. You’ll probably get a few belly rubs regardless.
