No Way Out

Apparently, I gave Daddy a little panic attack this morning. When he got ready to leave for work, he couldn't find me anywhere. He couldn't find me up the stairs and couldn't find me under the beds. He looked up, down, and all around. He shouted my name inside and outside. Daddy began to think that I had vaporized into thin air.

I never said peep. As he yelled my name, I didn't bark to tell him where I was. I don't know why. Sometimes I'm just a quiet little fella who likes to mind his own business. Besides, this was my private refuge that I had uncovered all by myself, and I wasn't sure I wanted it exposed so quickly. The others might try to horn in on my new territory.

It all started when Daddy sat in the recliner early that morning and pulled the foot rest up. When he did that, I made the awesome discovery: it was all cavelike under there. It was dark and cool and unexplored. I was beyond excited to have a fresh new hide out place. I was wondering why I had never thought of this spot before. Of course I failed to realize that when he put the foot rest down, I would have no way out.

Daddy really strained his brain to think when he saw me last and that's when it dawned on him that I might be stuck under the chair. When he put the foot rest up, there I was, patiently waiting.

In order to get the most out of this ghastly situation, I put on my really pathetic face. Over the years, I have perfected this forlorn face. In fact, I used that face to get my mom to adopt me on the very first day we met, and it's worked ever since. But part of me was really sad that my new hiding place was no longer secret.