Tales of Ella the Circus Dog
2006-03-20 11:25 PM
My New Tent.
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When I was on the street, I had to hide my goods. When the People brought me here, I had to do the same. The best place I found was the bed. Under it. When the People gave me a toy, I took it under. When I found Kleenex in the baskets, I took it under. When I got a Greenie, I took it under. The bed is just high enough for me to scoot up under with anything I want to hide there. It’s my Great Escape.
Occasionally, I eat the bedspread. Oh, not all of it and not all at once. I have nibbled. It is mostly when I am sleepy, like just waking up from the big sleep. I might start on my paw. Licking. Licking. Sometimes I’m so sleepy that my tongue falls off my paw and onto the bedspread, and that’s how I know it tastes really good. In a material way. I will lick, lick, lick, lick, then take a little lick between my front teeth and pull. Sometimes threads come. Lick, lick, lick. Over the years I been here, I have left a few small holes. Very small. Hardly seen. And some cord. In places. Hardly seen. The bedspread is Italian, and I love it.
Tonight the bedspread is gone. Something else is in its place. It touches the floor all around. When I slip up under the bed now, I slip through tassels. Ooo la la. Can’t wait to taste those. When I am up under my new tent, I am invisible.
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