“I’m getting tired of being stepped on. I do everything I can for these idiots and all they do is walk all over me.”
"Well, what are you going to do? Are you going to just give up? They don’t know any other way. They think of themselves as better than you and I. It’s just the way things are.”
“Well it shouldn’t be that way. Each week I put everything I have into my work, and every Friday, that nutty guy who thinks he runs this place comes around and decides to shave a little off of the top. He rakes in so much that most of the time he just throws it away: Doesn’t even share the bounty with the rest of us.”
“Look. You know I agree with you, but, at least, he likes you. I heard him say that much last week when he was doing his Friday rounds. But for me and my kind? Well I’m sure he hates us. That free food he offers sometimes. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s poison. I think his goal is to get rid of a lot of us. He'd like to just deal with you and your kind. His wife feels the same way, and she’s the one who really runs this place."
"Well it could be because you’re always too crabby. You really are, you know.”
“I was born that way. And you can’t change your DNA. But shush. Here he comes. Don’t let him hear us talking. Just act natural. Maybe he’ll walk by and not notice us.
“Oh God. You don’t think he heard me do you? He’ll get rid of me now for sure.”
(A conversation I heard between the fescue and crabgrass in my back yard.)