…Return of the Pancakes
It was 6:30 (a.m.) and I had just let Ray out to pee. The cats were swarming around my feet wanting to go outside with their brother but we have strict rules in this house about when the kitties are allowed out in the morning and it wasn't their time yet. I stayed in the kitchen, putting dishes away and tidying up, so that I could see Ray and let him in when he was ready, but somehow I missed his return. When next I looked, Ray was standing at the door, box of pancakes gripped between his teeth, a pleased look on his face, his tail swinging gently from side to side.
|Oh, come ON.|
I opened the door a crack.
"You're not bringing that back in," I said to Ray of his bedraggled prize, "Drop it."
Thinking that I was just kidding and that anyone would be proud to have the major award displayed proudly in their house, Ray took a step closer to the door.
"DROP IT," I said to the delusional dog.
Ray took another step closer.
I closed the door in his face, cranked open the window adjacent and said, "DROP it," again.
Ray turned with a little jump, tail still swinging, and glanced over his shoulder luring me out.
Totally duped, I laughed and opened the door. Ray quickly turned and tried to muscle his way into the house.
"DROP IT," I said to the dog, blocking his entry, then added, "I'm going to get your prize!"
That phrase will usually set the dog off on a game of keepaway but Ray was set on bringing his pancakes into the house. I noticed a few ants crawling on the outside of the box. Lord only knows what the inside was like.
"There's no way," I said to the dog, "DROP IT."
I stepped back into the house and closed the door. Ray stood outside, disconsolate but not defeated. He went to the other backdoor and waited.
I walked determinedly into to the living room, slid open the sliding glass door and said through the screen, "Drop it, Ray."
Ray went back to the kitchen door and waited.
I slid open the screen door and stuck my head out.
"Drop it," I said then quickly slid the door shut as the dog wheeled and trotted back towards me.
Ray was again standing at the sliding door to the living room. I walked back into the kitchen thinking, "this could go on all day," when I saw Ray head off into the backyard, prize still held in his jaws. I knew the look. His pancakes were headed back to the burial grounds.
It took 20 minutes for Ray to find a suitable hiding place for his box. It ended up right back where it started.
Later, when I finally slid the dog door open for the cats to exit, Ray leapt from his chair and raced back to his prize (which is opposite the sliding glass door). He stood alertly next to the spot, guarding the pancakes from his feline siblings. Because everyone knows, cats love a nice blueberry pancake for breakfast.