Paws for thought with a furry friend


5. A Night On The Tiles

Saturday morning, and there I was, running around in the garden as usual, when dad picked me up and took me indoors.  Humph.  Just after that, he went off in the car and returned with mum.  "Don't let Kizzie out", he said - but I was faster than a bullet from a gun out of that door and over the wall in no time at all.

"We must get her back in", he said, and ran after me.  What fun we had, me just keeping a few paces ahead, at times letting him come right up to me, then darting away at the last moment. He brought some food out, but I wasn't hungry.  Mum tried too, the old "long piece of string" trick, with me running around and almost into the house.  As if I was going to fall for that!  At one point dad actually persuaded me as far as the door, bur mum had just begun vacuuming.  "Stop it", he yelled at the top of his voice, and me, thinking he meant stop going in, turned around and whizzed out again.

Eventually, the humans gave up and left me on my own, with my overnight feeding dish, which dispenses a certain amount every few hours.  When I saw that, I was worried - they wouldn't be back tonight that's for sure.  I spent the night in hiding and when they finally rolled up at 11am this morning, I ws more than ready to come in again.  The cheek of it!"  I tried to get you in, you naughty little thing", said mum as  I fell into the food bowl.  "She'll learn", said dad, as I mooched upstairs sulkily to my favourite bed to catch up on my sleep.

Now, are they the dirty stopouts or am I? 

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