Monday, May 08, 2006

Speaking of Sneaking

I believe my humans are up to no good.

Why else would they feel the need to sneak up on me?

Take yesterday, for instance. They went out for a walk in the afternoon, and I busied myself with watching the world from the comfort of the sofa. After a time I climbed down and took a nice nap on the blankie, and when I awoke they were still not home, so I checked my food dish—which was empty—and then I went back to the lounge and sat on the seagrass rug to meditate a bit.

The next thing I knew, the front door was hanging open and the British One and Softie were both standing over me. Where did they come from, and how did they manage to get into the house without my hearing the front door open? Very curious, indeed.

They didn’t stay indoors too long, however, because it was such a lovely day. They took the newspaper outside and sat on the front porch, reading. I could scarcely believe they would come home and not immediately feed me, so I went back to the kitchen to check my food dish again.

As I was looking at my empty dish, Softie sneaked up behind me and gave me a fright when she reached over me to get the dish and fill it with delicious diced chicken. I hadn’t heard her come into the kitchen, nor had I heard her open the big cold foodbox and retrieve the chicken. She must have been extra quiet as she did these things.

And yesterday wasn’t the first time I’ve noticed them sneaking up on me. There are times I am napping and they rudely awaken me by switching on lights or opening blinds. Sometimes they talk extra low too, and I have to struggle to hear what they say.

I wish they’d just speak up, instead of sneak up.

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