From the front lawn I leave Ellie in the dust and run straight to the door. As soon as she gets the door open–sure wish I could do that myself– I race down the hall, slipping and sliding on the wood floor, and skid to a stop on the rug in the TV room. That’s near my food bowl and I like to check it often to see if anything new has turned up. Then I trot back to the bedroom and lie down. Or go through Ellie’s office and down the other hallway to the front room or the garage. Most of my walking is back and forth between the bedroom and the kitchen. If that floor was more like the dirt in the woods, I’d have worn a path into it by now.
At night I’m not sure where I want to be. Ellie is in her bed and the lights are out. I look around the bedroom, not seeing much. I walk to my water bowl in Ellie’s bathroom and give it sniff. I step out into the open space by the front door. What now? Where to? I saunter into the kitchen, sniff my food bowl, walk around the sofa. Do I want to go out through my door? Not really. Check the food bowl again–empty. Everything else the way it should be here, I walk back to the bedroom. Click, click, click, my claws mark my pace. I walk in, hear Ellie sleeping, check out my beds–the old one I never use any more, the comfy one that smells like me and is lumpy and ripped, and something new that Ellie keeps throwing treats on. It’s thick and spongy, hard for me to walk on. None of them seems very interesting, so I walk back out to see what’s going on in the kitchen. Click, click, click…
I’ve been quiet because Ellie was gone for so long I almost forgot her. Well, let’s just say that Mark tried his best to take care of me. He gave me food and walked me, but it isn’t the same. When Ellie opened the door I was scared at first. She marched in with that rumbling suitcase. “Hi, Foxy. How’s my little guy?” I ran away at first but then I started to remember her smell and her sound. Soon she was clomping around the house and I was following her.
I don’t eat all my food when Ellie is away. Well, actually I don’t ever eat all my food. I forget it’s there or I’m not hungry or it just doesn’t smell as good as what she is eating. Since her return she’s been feeding me a lot of new stuff. The yucky food in the cans has disappeared. She’s been cooking up a chicken storm, filling the whole house with great smells. Let me at it! I get chicken mixed with rice or with some other grainy thing that is easy to spread all over the floor. Also my usual carrots, although she must have noticed after a couple of bites on a carrot I leave it somewhere on the rug, because the carrots in my food are soft.
Ellie is doing something else funny. First she puts my food in my bowl. Then if I don’t eat it right away, she comes with a big spoon and spreads most of it over a big plate, like the ones she uses. She leaves the plate on the floor next to my bowl. It helps me to sniff what is there and pick out the pieces of chicken.
Today she gave me some wonderfully stinky stuff that smells like the little treats she tosses on the floor for me to gobble up–salmon? And some string beans from a can, which I like OK. I wish she would just give me exactly what she is eating with all the sauce and good smells. Why can’t I have that?
Ellie’s friend Roy has been at our house almost every day for as long as I can remember and he has brought his dog, Blue. I am always happy to see Blue, but I run to my bedroom and cover my ears as soon as the buzzing, banging and crashing starts.
First they spent a whole day ripping up the kitchen. They covered the floor with some cardboard stuff that makes a big noise when I walk on it. It scared me at first, but I kind of like sounding like a big mean dog as I make my way to my doggie door. Then they moved the stove and the refrigerator (hey, my food is in there!) into the dining room. Huh? Then the dust started to fly as they took the cabinets off the wall. That was the right time for me to hide out.
When they arrive early in the morning, Ellie is sometimes just crawling out of bed. I go out to greet Blue, who is very eager to come in the house, but after Roy yells and slams the door, Blue stays outside. I go out through my door and we say hello. Then he makes use of our yard to relieve himself and I pee over the same spot to make sure he knows who the master of the house is.
Ellie’s food preparation has become really strange. She moved my food bowl to the bathroom and twice a day she carries my food in there and puts together those yummy treats that sometimes have nasty pills inside (ugh–spit them out) and mixes up my food in my bowl. She washes dishes in the bathroom too and I can tell she is not pleased with the arrangement. Much grumbling and sighing.
Now the guys are groaning and drilling while they put cabinets back on the walls in the kitchen. I just don’t get it. What was wrong with the other ones? You humans are sure strange. Go ahead and mess up my kitchen. I’ll be hanging out with Blue.