The humans have developed a new hobby, apparently, they leave the house together now. I am familiar with my human leaving. She goes to work, and while I miss her terribly, I understand the arrangement. She disappears. I nap. She comes back. I celebrate as though she has returned from a years-long sea voyage.
This is different. Now she leaves when she is not supposed to be leaving.
The Man Human arrives, everyone gets excited, and then they both vanish into the night together. The first time this happened, I sat by the door for several minutes waiting for them to realize they had forgotten something important.
Me.
When they did not immediately return, I conducted a thorough inspection of the house. Every room was checked. Every window monitored. I even looked behind the couch in case they had somehow misplaced themselves.
Nothing.
The house was quiet.
I carried one of my toys into the living room and dropped it dramatically on the floor. No one threw it. I brought another. Still nothing.
This is when I realized the full magnitude of the problem. The humans had gone on an adventure without me.
I spent the evening keeping watch from the window. A squirrel appeared briefly. We acknowledged one another. Someone had to guard the house.
Eventually, the humans returned smelling like Outside, Good Food, and Happiness. The moment the door opened, I informed them how difficult their absence had been. I wiggled. I zoomed. I performed several emergency circles around the living room.
The Man Human apologized. My human gave me kisses.
I forgave them immediately. I do not understand these “dates,” but they seem to make my human smile a lot. I suppose that is acceptable.
Still, I think future adventures should include me. I am excellent company.
With love, optimism, and only a little abandonment,
Ms. Frizz
