100 Short Stories in 100 Days: 3
Fiona decided she was old enough to make breakfast.
Her owner, Tom, had been away most of the morning, at the Jewish Community Center, but she didn't really know what that was or what being Jewish meant; plus, she was pretty sure he wasn't even Jewish. So, this morning in September, a bright cool pre-fall day, Fiona wandered into the kitchen. As always, the big silver thing was against the wall. She never saw the door open for very long, so she didn’t ever go in it. It was too chilly in there for her anyway. She jumped up onto the white ivory counter and rummaged around in the snacks, both paws extended.
Mandarin oranges? No.
Kelp snacks? No.
Lighter for incense? Tom said to stay away from that.
Raw boost mixers? Hmm. Maybe.
Was that the snack bag? The treats? Cat Candy? It looked like the bag Tom would bring out. It must be the treats, she thought.
She patted the base of the bag. It didn’t move. Patted a little more. Slight movement. WHACK! She knocked the bag over. But nothing came out. It was sealed shut.
Realizing that a Ziplock bag wasn’t made for paws, she determined she was going to be tough and tear it open with her teeth.
“OK, time to be fierce!” She thought. “It’s Fierce Time, Fiona!”
She tried to bite the bag. She barely saw impressions dimpled on the heavy plastic.
“Maybe I should ask Olive to help me,” Fiona wondered, realizing her teeth weren’t very fierce at all. Olive’s were, though.
Fiona tried several more times to bite into the package.
In mid-chomp, she heard the big door open. It was Tom.
Fiona jumped off the counter, leaving the treat bag on its side, and ran through the hallway to see her best friend, Tom. As he walked into the kitchen and set his very heavy Stanley thermos down, he noticed the bag of treats and said “Hmmmm…was someone getting into something here?” He looked down kindly at her. Fiona raised her tail and chirped at him. He knew. He got down on his haunches and opened the bag (which she thought seemed easy to do when he did it) and gave her two little pellets.
“Best friends forever,” he murmured while petting her little grey head.
Fiona determined she would try to make breakfast tomorrow.