Humans are very entertaining. The other day my human brought home a large flat box. She ripped open the end and nearly stepped on my tail doing those silly jumping jacks to coax the contents out.
My human actually sat on the floor, eyes glued to the paper that lay on top of the stack. She must not have realized she wasn’t in a chair. I pawed at the paper held in her hand, then moved in closer. See, it’s easier to read the directions with your teeth.
On all fours after categorically refusing my help, she started moving pieces from the box around on the floor. I jumped from board to board like Frogger chasing a high score award. My job was to check each board for structural integrity by having it hold my mass evenly, with proper grace and style. Summarily slid from my summit onto the floor is so not dignified.
So many tiny pieces piled on top of the last board. I had to inspect each and every one, of course. My human dropped a small shiny thing to the floor. Let me get that for you. What? Honestly, I wasn’t going to swallow it! When her fingers wrenched my mouth open, I gave it back to her. That was so helpful. I think I’ll do it again!
I don’t know why she kept putting these tiny wooden pieces into holes on a board that clearly don’t want them. When the third one fell to the floor, I tried to help her pick it up. Oh, what a yummy smell! Think I’ll have just a little…
“Max!” my human screamed.
It was just one. I wasn’t really gonna eat it. I was just measuring it, with my mouth.
“No, blah, blah, blah, Max.”
Her tone sounded harsh. She was obviously upset with herself and her impossible project. I did try to help.
The large white boards first formed a box of some sort. Not very sturdy I’d say. The structure swayed back and forth like the walls of a Japanese toilet room in the middle of an earthquake. Aren’t those smaller boards supposed to go in there somewhere?
While she played her game of dominoes with the middle pieces of the thing, a large metal claw-like thing laying nearby on the floor warranted my further investigation. It moved a little my first try. I wanted to see how far I could slide it, but my human picked it up before I had a good a swing at it. After indiscernible shouts and a quicker than my tail flick reflex when it landed on her thumb, I was glad I decided it really wasn’t worth that much bother. My beauty sleep is more important.
Three naps later, my human had constructed me a new perch from which to spy on passersby, exactly what I wanted. I think I’ll keep her.
MakerGoddess 