I forgot to lock the back door. Again.
Three overactive, overexcited bulldogs played in the backyard while I went about my business, made myself supper, and sat down for an early evening repast in front of the television and its faithfully recorded programs.
My plate was on my lap (no TV tray for me, oh, no). My beverage was on the shelf beside my chair – the tall, skinny, shaky shelf that wavers like a skyscraper in an earthquake and holds an enormous number of small fragile items that can come crashing down at the merest touch from a bulldog’s behind. I like to live life on the edge.
I was half-way through the meal.
The backdoor swung open. The backdoor that I forgot to lock. The backdoor that is right by my shelf and easy chair.
Three overactive, overexcited bulldogs danced into the room, rocked the shelf and me, and then pranced across the floor before I could jump out of my seat.
The shelf dripped with the liquid that had been safely contained in my glass, cascading from one level to the next until it finally puddled on the floor. My plate and remaining food survived only because I had it in my hand when the invasion took place.
I refused to assess the damage until the bullies were corralled. They breathed deeply from the excitement of having caused yet another scene and slopped huge amounts of water into their bulldoggy mouths.
Then the cleanup began and, eventually, I sat down to consume the remainder of my food and to stare at the perpetrators. Their eyes said it all. “What?”
To them it was one more jolly romp. Their regret – they knocked only one item off the shelf and I was able to grab it before any of them did. Oh, and they didn’t dislodge any food from my plate.
The talented door opener (I think I know which one it is) simply took advantage of my failure to secure the lock. A quick swipe of the paw, a determined downward pull on the handle is all it takes. If the door is locked, a minor disappointment. But if it is unlocked…“Whoop! Here we come!”
Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.