A girl's got to have some secrets. I kept a secret from my new family. I may be tiny with short little legs, but I am a magnificent jumper. The mom and dad put a little stool by the bed so that I can jump on by myself. It's cute and I used it - but what they didn't know is that I didn't really need it at all.
My secret was let out of the bag one night when the dad left some chicken wings on the counter. In my old life, I never ate dog food - just people food, and I have really been missing it. I could smell it and remembered how good chicken wings taste. I simply jumped up on the bar stool (over three feet high, if I might brag) and then made the short hop to the counter. Boy, was Henry mad. He could smell them, too, but I wasn't going to share. I was on about the fifth wing (I even ate the bones) when I heard the car come back. Do I get down? Or just dig into another wing? I didn't play this right at all. If I had just jumped down, I am sure that Henry would have taken the fall for this - who would ever guess that I could get on the counter? Or eat my weight in chicken?
The mom and dad came in and saw it all. Me, on the counter, with sauce all over my face. They don't put barstools at the counter any more. And, I have to jump on the bed with no help from the stool. It was almost worth it!
No comments:
Post a Comment