October 27, 2009

—Aren’t you forgetting something?

“You’ve already been fed. And I filled your water dish. And I’ve scratched your ears.”

—All true, but still, haven’t you forgotten something?

“Forgot to tell you that we’ll soon be leaving for Seattle, leaving you behind, alone, with only enough food to last a day or two?”

—Now you’re just being evil while I’m trying to be helpful.

“Which has caught me by surprise, I must admit: usually, it’s all about you and your stomach.”

—That’s it, I give up, call me when it’s biscuit time.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry: what have I forgotten?”

—Writing down our conversation, of course. She With Whom I Abide has gone to work, you’re still here with me, we banter a bit, you know, we used to do it all the time.

“Damn! You’re right: I still haven’t gotten used to this wacky schedule I’m on. Thanks for reminding me.”

—You know how you can really thank me.

“Yeah, yeah: later. Right now I’ve got to type.”

—Say, you aren’t really going to Seattle, are you?

“You’ll know soon enough.”