No Time to Wait

Each afternoon I watch for Softie’s bus from my vantage point on the back of the sofa. When I see her making her way up the sidewalk, I leap down and sit by the front door to await the shower of praise and kind words she gives me when she walks through the door and scoops me up into her arms.

Yesterday, my normal routine was thrown into disarray because the British One was sitting on the front porch when she came home, and as a result I sat and waited by the front door for a very long time.

I could hear their voices through the door, and it sounded as though they might be out there for awhile. I don’t like to wait. At my age, I should not have to wait—I don’t have that kind of time! So I did what I had to do, which was yowl very loudly to remind them that I was inside, waiting to be feted and petted.

And something quite remarkable happened. Softie let me outside in the FRONT of the house! Oh it was joyous! I wandered the porch, sniffing the flowers and critiquing her planting skills, then I hopped down the steps and enjoyed chewing a few blades of grass. Briefly I even went next door to see how much I could rile and stir-up the evil Mooch. Much to my dismay, he was locked away and had no idea that I was walking around on his grass. Too bad.

It was quite enjoyable to sit outside on the porch with my humans. I hope we do it again sometime soon.