The Diplomatic Dog

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The Diplomatic Dog

hamed hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 6:45 p.m.
Views: 43 |

When a stray dog named Max trotted across the new Romania-Hungary border, no one—least of all Max himself—had any idea it would be the start of a diplomatic incident.

Max had never cared much for borders. He’d wandered freely between the small villages of both countries, chasing squirrels and sniffing out discarded sandwiches. But today was different. As he approached the newly established checkpoint, two guards were standing side by side, holding flags that looked suspiciously ceremonial for the sleepy morning. One waved the Romanian flag, the other the Hungarian one.

Max, ever the opportunist, saw the flags flapping in the wind and decided they looked like a perfect invitation for an impromptu game of fetch. He bolted forward, snatching the Romanian flag out of the guard’s hand with a swift, agile swipe.

"Hey!" yelled the Romanian guard, stumbling backward.

But before the Hungarian guard could react, Max zoomed to his left, grabbed the Hungarian flag, and trotted to the center of the border, a flag in each mouth like some kind of canine diplomat.

Both guards stared, speechless, as Max danced around in circles, clearly pleased with himself. He barked twice in triumph, sending a few stray leaves fluttering in the air.

The guards exchanged glances. “What do we do?” the Romanian guard asked.

“I... I don’t know. This wasn’t in the manual,” the Hungarian guard replied, his hands still gripping the pole where his flag had once been.

Suddenly, a small crowd of locals had gathered on either side of the border, laughing at the absurd sight. Phones emerged, and the scene was quickly uploaded to every social media platform known to humankind.

“Maybe we should let him cross,” the Romanian guard finally said, looking down at the scrappy dog who was now wagging his tail proudly. “He’s made his point. He's more of an international symbol than either of us will ever be.”

“I suppose... it’s a diplomatic gesture, right?” the Hungarian guard said, grinning. “We could make him the first official visitor.”

And so, Max became an international sensation. The mayors of both towns, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, declared him the first official border-crossing guest.

Flags were ceremoniously waved in his honor, and local media showed up to cover the historic "event." Max was even presented with a ceremonial bone from each country—a gesture he politely accepted before trotting off to find a shady spot to nap.

Max, it seemed, had mastered the art of diplomacy with nothing but a wagging tail and impeccable timing.

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