John was a kind soul. Every man, woman and child was instantly set at ease just by hearing his voice. It didn’t hurt that he always brought a little something with him when appeared. Mind you, his gift was just the daily post - but he still got credit for it showing up day in and day out.

His work wasn’t limited to just the citizens of Donnybrook. He delivered the mail to every house in Pleasant Grove, and I imagine he took his infectious smile far beyond. Every where he went he was welcomed by all walks of life, from your average citizen to wild dogs. Practically rabid strays would turn into puppies the moment John turned the corner. He was jut one of those people that make the world a better place, and our dog Fluffy knew it.

Part spitz, part too many other things to count, Fluffy was just a ball of fluff and compassion. I suppose that’s why John took to her more than any other dog on the street. He was always kind to everyone of them, with a pet for any animal that cared to approach. But every single day, there was a little something extra for Fluffy. A treat that he carried in his bag and had only her name on it. She knew it, and would meet him the second he turned the corner at Greendale. From there, she took it on herself to guard and accompany him every single step across Donnybrook Lane.

At first, this freedom she enjoyed was a bit of embarrassment for our family. The neighborhood had its share of wild dogs, or at least dogs that people grew tired of caring for before turning them out onto the streets. But Fluffy was the only member of a family that lived freely on both sides of her fence. It was a five foot tall chain link barrier that told the world, this is where we keep our stuff. And for all of the menacing and reclusive appearance of it, it was nothing more than an inconvenience to Fluffy.

Standing at just over a foot, she taught herself early on that jumping mid way up, she could latch her paws into the links of the fence, and crawl to the top. From there, it was a small leap to freedom. One she would make several times a day, and these days most particularly at mail time. I imagine Fluffy would have loved to continued up to the last of her days, but she at least did it until the last of John’s.

Everyone had known for some time that he was retiring. Having serviced the United States Post office for more than 30 years, John was going to take a well earned break and enjoy the world. He told our parents, us kids, and everyone within ear shot about his plans for the future. He talked about how much he would miss our neighborhood, and how he would think fondly of us as he saw all the corners of this great country. We all got the message and had plenty of time to accept that things were changing. All of us except Fluffy. It was early fall, when she found out.

It was as though she had a watch, Fluffy knew exactly when John should be showing up. She jumped out of her cage, flying with excitement, and rushed to the edge of the neighborhood. From there, she spent a few minutes running back and forth between the houses, eagerly waiting for her friend. What showed up was a stranger. A man in his early 30’s, wearing John’s uniform, carrying John’s bag, and standing on John’s street. It just wasn’t John.

As I said, Fluffy was as full of compassion as she was hair, and she forgave this intruder instantly. She was, I’m certain, dismayed it was not her friend, but she ran with the same exuberance as always, to make a new friend. And that is when it all went horribly wrong.

This Daniel, wearing John’s uniform, was not kind, and not at all fond of dogs. I suppose somewhere in his past he had his own bad experience, and was prepared not for a friend, but for a fight. So, as soon as she was in range, Daniel unleashed a small spray bottle that launched the noxious substance across the street, covering Fluffy in a painful and nauseating liquid. She yelped in agony and confusion, before feeling to safety. She didn’t understand why this new person chose to assault her. Why he felt the need to hurt her. She only knew that he had chosen not to be a friend. In her mind, from that moment forward, he was only here to cause harm and wreak havoc. It was now her burden, her mission, to protect us all from this interloper.

The rest of that tour, Daniel travelled unabated. Mail came just after school hours, and all of the neighborhood kids, myself and my brothers included, were resting in-doors after the arduous walk home. Fluffy returned home, injured and scared, bearing the marks of her assault, and it didn’t take too long before we figured out what had happened.

UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE

Office of the Postmaster

Pleasant Grove Post Office

Regarding: Safety Hazard at 9134 Donnybrook Ln

Dear Resident,

It is my duty to inform you of an unfortunate incident involving one of our letter carriers and your pet earlier today. While attempting to deliver the daily mail to your receptacle, our carrier was cornered and threatened by your dog, which was loose on the premises.

In accordance with postal safety regulations, the carrier was forced to deploy a defensive spray (Halt!) to deter the animal and prevent a physical attack. Please be assured that this spray is a non-toxic pepper derivative designed to temporarily distract the animal without causing any permanent injury.

The safety of our personnel is a priority. Our carriers cannot be expected to navigate a "gauntlet" to ensure your correspondence reaches your door….

Mother was furious, as were the rest of us.

“I told you kids to watch that dog! Now they are threatening the mail. I don’t have time to drive to the post office to get the mail!” She screamed.

Misunderstanding the situation, I yelled back, “I know. He was totally out line. But we’ll get him!”

“You will do no such thing. Just make sure your dog is locked in the garage tomorrow, or else,” she threatened.

It didn’t matter. We would protect Fluffy from this invader, this monster, and he would regret ever stepping foot in the grove.

The next few days were quiet. The mail came, the mail went. We freed Fluffy from her prison the second we get could to her, and tried our best to make amends. Of course it was never enough. The garage was not cooled, and as spring was turning to summer, the heat was nearing unbearable levels. If we were going to save Fluffy, we had to make a plan now.

I, with my brothers David and Paul, worked tirelessly to use all of our collective knowledge of tormenting people, to invent some plot so foul that Daniel the post man would instantly regret his actions, apologize to the family and our pet, and never again darken our path. Of course, this is easier said than actioned, and so we continued to think.

After a few weeks, we had decided on a plan. We had noticed, in our individual watchings, that Daniel checked the bottom of every box before adding new letters. We reasoned that if his had came back covered in whatever sticky mess we could find, the point would be made. In hindsight, it was not as diabolical as we hoped, but we were new to the revenge business.

UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE

Office of the Postmaster

Pleasant Grove Post Office

Subject: NOTICE OF SERVICE SUSPENSION

Dear Resident,

Please be advised that mail delivery to your address has been suspended effective immediately for a period of one (1) month. Delivery is scheduled to resume on November 24, 2023.

This action is being taken due to a reported incident involving a "prank" or tampering with your mailbox. While we understand that you may not have been the perpetrator of this act, the United States Postal Service maintains strict safety and security standards to protect our carriers and the integrity of the mail.

The letter went on to explain how it took the carrier an extra hour to clean the honey, shaving cream, jelly mess from his hand before he could continue delivering the post. It concluded that unless both forms of animals, dogs and child hood pranksters were contained, we would permanently lose mail privileges.

Mother was of course, again, furious. We lost dinner privileges that night, and a host of other arbitrary punishments. It didn’t matter. Clearly our message was not heard, and it was time to escalate. We had one month to devise a plan that would end this scourge once and for all.

Luckily for us, the answer came in the form of our favorite past time. One of the kids in the neighborhood had learned at a summer camp, that cicadas were harmful to trees. We had noticed that they left marks of dripping sap every time that landed on one, and concluded that to save the trees, to save our neighborhood, we would have to eradicate them. Thus, one of our summer past times was capturing cicadas and dispatching them. After a time, we began playing with them, and even collecting them. We would have large jars with several cicadas that would buzz around until we set them free in some other neighborhood far from our trees.

As the jars grew larger, and were filled more full, the release was very much a spectacle. One we reasoned might but the fear of the after life in a person. So, with no real supervision, we set out one to begin collecting as many bugs as we could find. To alleviate blame for what we were sure would be an incident for the ages, we filled every mailbox until they were literally crawling with the bugs. One this was accomplished, we hid and waited.

It took most of the day to collect and stash our co-conspirators, so the wait was not long. Only a half our after our plan was enacted, Daniel turned the corner. He approached the first mailbox, looking side to side nervously as he held his container of foul spray, then sprung the lid from the mail container. Instantly the sky was filled with screaming cicadas celebrating their newfound freedom. Daniel replied with a shout of terror, that overjoyed the three of us.

After a moment, he composed himself, wrote down the address where there offense occurred and moved on. A few minutes later, the terror repeated. This time, Daniel was more obviously shaken, and he struggled to write down the offending address. After a few moments, with the incident recorded, he moved on again. He repeated this twice more before the sheer volume of the prank broke him. Daniel turned with his mailbox, and on the verge of tears, was in full retreat.

The next day, every house received the same message, and while no one was certain who the perpetrators were, everyone had their suspicion, and from that day on everyone watched our house as though we were infected with some plague. It mattered very little to us, because the same week we discovered that Daniel had been replaced by a man named Terrance, who loved dogs.