Momma and Poppa still keep her trapped upstairs, ’cause she’s bunctious. Every morning, Poppa goes up to visit with her and feed her and clean her litter box and play with her. Then he comes downstairs and Momma says, “How’s the baby this morning?” And Poppa says, “Am bunctious!” That makes me laugh, because he ought to say, “IS bunctious,” but he likes to joke sometimes.
They took my red dot machine up there, but Poppa said it was too fast for her (nothing is too fast for her!) and Momma brought my machine back and bought Chickie one Poppa could hold and move like he wants to. I used to have one of those, but it wasn’t fast enough!
They took the cushions off one of my couches.
They took the whole couch upstairs, and now Chickie plays on it!
Sometimes, they let her come down to play. I don’t know why we don’t ever go up to play, but we don’t. She always wants to come down here.
The other day, I showed her my bed, where I let people sleep, except when I walk on them or jump over them and wake them up.
Then we started playing.
But, just like always, she messes with me and bites my tail until I knock her down and show her who’s boss, and she yells for help, and Momma scoops her up and makes her go back upstairs.
Maybe sometime she’ll want to play nice, and we can play longer.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: Do you have a little brother or sister?