Holden foils the moth invasion

One night, standing near the diabolical Cone Man,

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I thought I heard whispers.  No matter how closely I listened, however, I could not be sure if what I was hearing was the words, "Yes, my pretties," all drawn out, or the breeze playing in the night.

The sounds vanished as I drew closer to the house, where I found this giant yellow moth hanging by the front door.

The ways of the Cone Man are devious and dastardly, so I shooed away the moth, went inside, and thought little more about it.

Until the next night, when this green giant now perched by the door, waiting to do only Cone Man knows what evil.

Clearly, it was time to call Holden, vanquisher of Cone Man plots and dog extraordinaire.  

After a long squirt in the neighborhood of the Cone Man and a chat I could not make out, he began a vigorous conversation with the green giant.

After much head wagging and backing and forthing, Holden pronounced the threat over.

We have not seen the giant moths since then.