There's no place in this apartment to hide. Under the bed? They find me. Behind the couch? They look there too. In the closet? Doesn't work. So I found a new spot the other night. I thought it was perfect. This box is gray, I'm gray. There's no way the humans would find me I thought. I squeezed myself onto the top of the box. It's a little tougher to fit into small spaces than it used to be. Just as I got myself comfortable I saw the flashy box come out.
I tried to move further back, thinking she was just taking a photo of that picture box that they stare at all the time.
Then she started talking to me and I just resigned myself that this was not my new perfect hiding place. I guess I'll have to keep looking.
It's a tough life.
