Mailbox Meanderings

Last night, mom was expecting her human child to knock on the front door at any moment. Hearing a knock, she flung the door open, but instead of her boy, two frightened sales people stood in horror. That's because Chance rushed at them in his overzealous manner to greet them with his wet nose. The lady threw her arms up in the air and screamed. Mom yelled Chance’s name and motioned him back inside. The little brown-noser respectfully submitted to her command.

Seeing a perfect opportunity, I slipped out the door as Chance was coming in. The mailboxes had not been marked in quite some time, so I did not want to squander my good fortune. I ran down the street, lifting my leg high on each box. Mom was really mad at me, yelling my name and demanding that I return to her. Couldn't she see I was working the block? When her brisk walk turned into a run, I knew the jig was up, so I emptied myself at the last mailbox and squatted down to let her know I surrendered.

Spenser was the only one who did not go outside and Chance quickly obeyed mom’s command to return to the den. Those two boot-lickers have made me look bad. Now I have been completely exposed as the rebellious one of the pack. No matter, I have made my presence known to every home on our side of the street. The reprimand I received was worth it I suppose. Besides, mom never stays mad at me for long. How could she? My big black eyes turn her into mush every single time.