Red Pawed

This afternoon, I walked through the door of my apartment and the strangest thing happened: nothing at all. For those of you who know Kaya, you'll realize that this is very bizarre. Normally, I am greeted with an enthusiastic, overwhelming and whiny welcome. Today: nothing. At first I thought that she must not be home; that perhaps our landlords were hanging out with her downstairs. When I reached the top of our stairs, I saw Kaya standing in the bedroom, head bowed, ears back, tail wagging lethargically at half mast. Instantly I knew that she'd done something bad - something really bad.

I first checked the trash in the office but it was still in its bin. Next I checked the bathroom trash but it was encased in its container too. Then I did a scout of the apartment floors for poop or upchuck or jellyfish. Nothing. Baffled, I checked our bed for hair and warmth. (Yes, I know her pretty well at this point.) There didn't seem to be more hair on the bed than usual and it wasn't warm to the touch, but every time I looked at the bed or touched it, Kaya cowered at my feet, ears plastered to the side of her head. Busted! If only she knew how much more she'd get away with if she didn't act so guiltily. Perhaps it's just as well she doesn't.

What's strange is that her reaction doesn't match her crime. Being "really bad" involves making a big mess, usually of the trash. Sleeping on our bed is only so-so bad. And yet she was clearly more guilt-consumed than if she had gone through the trash (when she does that, I find her belly-up and submissive at the top of the stairs).

She knows that going through the trash or sleeping on our bed is wrong and yet she still does it. I imagine her at home alone, dozing on her bed and dreaming of the cushiness that lies a mere three feet above her. She sits up and peers at the bed more closely. Overcome with guilt at the mere thought, she lays back down and tries to go to sleep. But the comfort of our bed calls to her and suddenly she finds herself standing next to it, one paw raised to touch it. Again, she is overwhelmed with guilt and so she returns to her bed. The next thing she knows is the sound of me coming home. With a start she wakes up only to realize that she's sleeping ON THE WRONG BED.

For Kaya, there is no "one ring to rule them all"; instead, there's "one bed to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."

Uh, I think I just outed myself as a LOTR geek.