Abi looked at the bird. It caught her attention while she was lounging on the step. It was on the rim of the big, empty clay pot, the one where she used to play hide-and-seek with her litter mates.
“What is it?” she asks herself. It didn’t look like her. It had a lot of pointy things. She stared at it, moving to a about-to-pounce position. Suddenly, the bird flies out, guessing her intention.
Abi follows the bird’s departure then stands up. She walks over to her food bowl, crunches on some puppy chow and downs it with numerous laps of water. She looks at me, shakes her head and goes back to the step to continue her rest. Missed adventure, I think.