Today, I want to cede the floor to Aspen, our red and white basenji, otherwise known as Sweet Thang, as she describes yesterday morning’s misadventures from her point of view.

0230 hours:  Mom awakens and rises to take some aspirin because she’s not feeling well.  I, who have been sleeping on top of the covers, decide to take advantage of the situation and slip underneath.  My stripy prince/slave, Wallace, is there.  He is Mom’s ally, so I ignore him and flop onto my side.  Almost immediately, I begin snoring to keep Dad awake.

0530 hours:  At last, Dad awakens.  He rises and does my bidding by feeding the stripy prince/slave and me.  I must now seek warmer climes for my first nap.  The stripy prince/slave currently resides in front of the warm fireplace.  I use my feminine wiles to remove him.  After circling exactly ten times, I lie down.

0535 hours:  The stripy prince/slave kicks me off the fire.  Bugga!  I’ll must create another scheme to take over my throne.  But alas, the stripy prince/slave confounds me with schemes of his own.

0700 hours:  Dad confirms it.  Mom is taking the morning off.  Yes!  I can stay away from Dogtanamo Bay, where Mom and Dad lock me up with my stripy prince/slave.  Perhaps I can take advantage of the many sun spots appearing.

0730 hours:  I curl up for my second nap of the day—after circling exactly ten times.

0930 hours:  Mom stumbles into the kitchen to eat breakfast.  I watch her from my position on the couch.

1000 hours:  I go off in search of a sun spot.  Finding one, I settle in for my third nap of the day—after circling exactly ten times.

1130 hours:  Madness!  Mom darts around the kitchen.  Plans to put me in Dogtanamo Bay are in the works.  I will have none of this.  I must escape to the outside.  I slink away and locate a sun spot on the deck.  Perhaps she will not realize I am out here and leave.

1135 hours:  It is not to be.  I’m found out.  This cannot last.  I must not go up.  Must not!  I run into the yard toward the corner.  Mom shouts something.  I cannot hear her since I am now deaf in my old age.  Mom points toward the deck.  I follow—but only on the outside.  I plot another escape.

1136 hours:  I go onto the screened-in porch.  But rather than follow the stripy prince/slave into the house, I dart around the coffee table.  Mom grabs at me.  No success.  Hah!  I’m now across the deck and into the yard again.

1137 hours:  I suddenly have no escape, for Mom snatches me up and carries me toward the house—and prison.  She sets me down inside and shuts the door leading to the outdoors and my freedom.  She points again.  I see her grab cookies.  She will try bribery.

1140 hours:  I am still not convinced.  The stripy prince/slave falls for the cookie-in-the-papasan routine to go into Dogtanamo Bay.  And I?  I will not be fooled.  Then Mom sets mine on the floor.  I will not fall for this!  My stomach rumbles in anticipation of a delicious treat.  I back away.  No, I will not!  Greed overcomes good sense.  I put two paws in, then four.  Mom darts through the door as I bolt toward the treat.  Mom tosses in a consolation prize.  Then the door shuts.  I gulp down my reward as I scold myself.  Then I shred the paperboard box in protest.  My mind begins working.

I may have lost this battle, but I will win.  It is simple.

I must come up with a better plan.  Then I will remain free when the parents leave.

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