I settled into the bath and lay back against the tub, ready for a long, relaxing soak. The water was a deep purple from the bath bomb I had used and my eReader was safely wrapped in it’s plastic water-proof cover. It was time to unwind and let go of the stress of the day.
“Help,” called a small, quiet voice. “Help me, please.”
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Goggies are dogs, too, and moggies are cats. Birds...are birds! Peeps are people. PWB Peeps are Pooties, Woozle, Birds People. No trolling the diary.
- If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Share any and all pootie/woozle photos or issues that you would like .
- If you have health/behavior issues with your pootie or woozle, feel free to bring it to the community. We just may have someone whose experience can help.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, spiders, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated.
- There is no such thing as stealing a photo around here, but if you would like a pic from the comment threads, please ask the poster. He/she may have a copyright to those pics. Many thanks!
- It should not need to be said, but ANY/ALL photos that imply or encourage human violence against an animal will be considered verboten! Whether it is “comedic” or not.
I sat up. “Freddie?”
“Help me,” he answered, his voice still soft. “I’m trapped.”
“Where are you, buddy?”
He poked his head into the bathroom. “I can’t get out,” he told me.
His mildly upset face made me understand what had happened. The good bathtub is in the master bathroom, which happens to be connected to my mom’s room. She has declared it a cat-free zone, so when I came in to take my bath, I had shut the door. But Freddie had apparently snuck in while I was getting ready, and so now found himself on the wrong side of a closed door.
I gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry, little guy, but you are stuck for a while. I just got in.”
“I want to get out, though. Right now.”
I shook my head. “It’s going to be just a little while. Why don’t you lay down and take a nap?”
He didn’t respond, just turned and walked back into he bedroom. I lay back again and picked up my book.
“There’s no food in here,” he called.
I sighed. “You aren’t going to starve in the next hour, just settle down and relax.”
He went quiet again and I went back to my book. I enjoyed a good fifteen minutes of quiet, when the complaining began again. This time he was louder.
“The door really won’t open,” he yelled. “I’m trapped in here and will never get out!”
I ignored him.
“I’m trapped foreeeeeeeeeeeevvvvverrrrrrrrr!” he wailed.
“Freddie! Stop being so dramatic!”
He walked into the bathroom and hopped onto the side of the tub. “Dramatic?! The. Door. Won’t. Open.”
I snorted. “This is a temporary problem. Let me enjoy my bath and I’ll let you out when I’m done.”
He stared at me for a minute. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m taking a bath. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me do this.”
“Well that’s a dumb thing to do,” he said regally. “Get out of there and open the door.”
“Last I checked,” I said, matching his regal tone as much as I could while lying in purple water, “I don’t take orders from you, mister.”
He snorted right back at me.
I shook my head and focused back on my book.
He gave the feline version of a foot stomp and jumped down, walking back out into the bedroom.
“Help!” I heard him yell. “Help, I’ve been trapped by a mean human!”
I rolled my eyes, still staring at the eReader, although now struggling to actually read it. “Freddie! Cut it out!”
“She’s trapped meeeeeeeeeee! I’ve been tricked and trappppppppppppped in here!”
“Keep it up,” I called to him. “I really can stay in here all night.”
I heard him mutter to himself. “Fine,” he huffed after a minute. “But you are mean, mean, mean.”
I enjoyed the rest of my bath in blessed silence. When I was done, I got out, wrapped myself in a towel, and picked up my things. I walked out into the bedroom. Freddie was sitting in front of the door, staring hard at it, determinedly not looking at me. I laughed. “OK, we can leave now.”
He didn’t reply, just stared at the door.
I shook my head at his brattiness, then grabbed the knob and opened the door. He pushed himself out before I could get it open very far and ran down the stairs to tell on me.
If you are wondering whether this story is fiction, I can assure you it is not. I had just settled into the fragrant, purple water when I heard the saddest, softest little mew you can imagine. It quickly escalated to wailing and gnashing of teeth before it settled down into determined pouting. Freddie is not a patient boy.
And I’m sorry to say that I am at work and will not be able to join you until later. My apologies.