The Invasion of the Little People

After my two ill-fated escape attempts, I decide I need to bide my time. I figure I really need to come up with a fool-proof plan to find Max and not act like a crazy pup chasing its tail. Yes, maybe I am finally getting a little common sense. 

In any event, Owner is acting very nice and kind to me, giving me lots of belly rubs and extra treats. I think she feels guilty that she left me alone for so long. So I make a concentrated effort to behave; after all, Owner really isn’t that bad—she feeds me, walks me, and in general gives me lots of love and attention. God knows, she certainly is better than my previous owners. Plus—and this means more than anything—she got me out of the shelter. So I forgive her, at least a little. 

But then comes the invasion of the Little People. I should give a little background before I continue, though. When I say “Little People,” I mean very small, very loud humans who think it’s acceptable to grab my tail and stick their hands in front of my face constantly. There were two Little People in my previous home, and they drove me nuts. They were always running around and getting in my way. One time, the smallest of these Little People poured a whole bottle of liquid that humans use to wash their food dishes over me, necessitating a long bath (I hate baths).

So Owner is buzzing around cleaning up the place and cooking. Let me tell you something, Owner never cleans and cooks, so my tail is already raised in suspicion.

The next day, the Little People descend, accompanied by several adults. It is pure pandemonium. The Little People run around and makes lots of noise, and chase me through the house. I try to stick close to Owner for protection. Owner is having a great time, laughing and chatting happily with her friends. She’s even being nice to the Little People.

Oh God, I hope she doesn’t get any big ideas and gets one of these Little People herself. That would be disastrous for me. 

That night, I dream of Little People constantly chasing me around an enclosed yard. Suddenly, my need to escape resuscitates itself.