Shangri-Lawn

This is me straining against the Red Leash of the Great Oppressors to lie on the lush heaven that is our neighbor's lawn. Our next door neighbor is obsessed. The man fertilizes, waters, grooms, and frets nervously over his patch of grass, oblivious to the fact that Denver is for all intents and purposes a desert. Sometimes he bitches about the state of the neighboring lawns loud enough so that we hear him. But as silly as green lawns are, they are nice to lie in. I like to lie in his lawn and rest up from a hard day of thinking about the world's problems, but the Great Oppressors are worried that he may perceive my presence as harmful to his precious bluegrass. They have taken steps to reduce my precious turf-lying by limiting me to one leash instead of two to force me to stay on my own property when I ask to go outside. However, I will no longer lie on the dry, unsatisfactory grass of the Great Oppressors. Note how I still find a way to lie on the lush grass of our neighbor despite the fact that I am being choked by the red leash of oppression. For me, it is Shangri-Lawn.