Lenore and I lounged in the coolness of the house on a hot summer afternoon. For days she had been installed on the sofa or on her bed, with a book and a box of those lovely paper tissues I like to play with–well, not when she’s around. She kept sneezing, kissing those tissues, and leaving wadded up bunches around in piles I couldn’t reach. Darn!

She was in front of the t.v. and I was on the floor next to her when I heard the first  BEEEP!  That sound pierced my head like a thorn.  I ran out of the room and looked for the source.  She got up mumbling something about “damned cell phone,” went to her desk, fiddled with the object, sighed, and lumbered back to the sofa.

Two minutes later,  BEEEP!  Again the  piercing sound–ouch! I ran around in circles. She got up again.

“Humph, not the cell phone. Could it be the smoke alarm?”

She stood in the hallway looking up at the ceiling…

Want to know what happened? The rest of the story is in My Leash on Life, available at Amazon.com.


2 thoughts on “POOCH ALARM

  1. Dear little Foxy,
    You are lucky that Lenore knows how to fix smoke alarms. Thanks for your story. Hope your nights are peaceful from now on.


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