Every day, her master left the house at precisely the same time. Every day, a bowl of food and a bowl of water were left on the floor, by the kitchen stove. Every day, the TV was left on for her.

She liked the TV, although it wasn’t the same as having her master there for her. She liked the way it sounded, so very soothing at times and, other times, so very excitable. She liked the little people trapped inside the box … even though she wondered why they never came out and played with her.

She liked the refrigerator, too, with its friendly purr and the aromatic treasures offered to her master. She tried touching the refrigerator like her master did; but, for her, it never opened.

The radio was an interesting birdcage. Most of the birds she knew, even the green and yellow parakeet in the cage in the living room, made the same sounds day after day. But, the bird in the radio was different. Although she had never seen it for herself, she was sure the radio must contain the most amazing bird anyone had ever known. What did her master feed this bird? Was it hatched there? Why didn’t it ever escape and fly around the room, she wondered?

The bathroom was an interesting place. She loved the sound of water. She loved the waterfall that cascaded out of the tub at her master’s touch. Today, as it was every morning, the tub was wet with water droplets and she tasted them. Looking to the commode, she considered the pool of water there and wondered why her master always kept the lid closed so she couldn’t drink.

Masters were strange. It was nice having them around, but who could understand them? Sometimes they were happy, sometimes they were sad. Sometimes they were singing, sometimes they were crying. They loved talking into their hands. They could do this for hours, talking into their hands as they held a toy named “Phone” … Phone seemed to get a lot of attention. Most of the time, her master liked Phone more than any of the other pets in the house; even more than Radio, Refrigerator or TV. But, lately, her master was hollering at Phone and treating him roughly. No matter what her master did, it didn’t seem to hurt Phone. It didn’t seem to stop Phone from ringing again and again and again. But, lately, her master wasn’t always answering.

Her job, at least her job as she saw it, was to patrol the house while her master was gone – and this, she did faithfully every day between naps in her bed. Her bed, inside a special crate just for her, consisted of an oval basket of wicker reeds, woven into a comfortable shape, padded with a mattress just right for her, and a raggedy blanket which she could never remember being without. There used to be buttons on her mattress, but they had become something to chew on and had disappeared long ago. She liked her bed, especially when she was tired, and sought peace and quiet. But, it was more fun to jump up on her master’s bed and bounce around. Her master didn’t like it when she played on the bed. But, since she never played on the bed when anyone was around, how could anyone know?

The other pets in the house must have told on her. It was probably that blabber-mouth, Phone. She would take care of him today. Today, she would simply push Phone off his pedestal on the table beside the chair. He wouldn’t like it. No, he wouldn’t like it at all. He would make pathetic noises, hoping she would pick him up and put him back on his perch, where he could spy on her and the rest of the house pets while their master was gone. But, not today. Today, she would show no mercy – even when he screamed that horrible, blasted whistle and begged and pleaded for her to hang him up. Her master would be proud of her.

She loved days like this, although her master was taking longer and longer to come home. Maybe tonight would be different. If she guarded the house and kept the peace between Bird in the Cage, Refrigerator, TV, Bird in the Radio and Phone, maybe her master would be pleased. Maybe, her master would be happy and she would see a smile again. That would be good.

As the day wore on, TV and its people laughed and clapped for themselves, driving little cars and wearing fancy clothes and talking about pills and soft drinks and food. Women with big hair and men with big smiles, hungry dogs scarfing up food, and cats so happy about the fresh smell of their litter trays. Things seemed OK for the little TV people.

After pushing Phone off the cliff of his table for ringing so often and disturbing the peace, she had savored the sound of him choking on his last words and screech as she moved on to a nice nap on her master’s bed.

What was that!

The heavy, insistent sound startled her off the bed and onto the floor, at full alert. The presence of strangers whirled through her blood and set her on edge.

“Go away!” she ordered, with her most threatening growl, hoping they would understand her meaning and prepared to carry out her intent even if they didn’t. “Go away!”

The sound of heavy knocking shook the sanctity of the whole house into silence. Only the little TV people didn’t seem to notice or care.

Rushing to the living room, she stood her ground. Why aren’t they going away? What are they saying? How dare they pound on the door like that! I’ll scare them. I’ll bark louder!

They didn’t go away. Instead of leaving the growing stack of letters for her master, like the mailman did every day, they knocked and rudely called out her master’s name. But, he isn’t here, she thought. Don’t they know that?

Horrified, she waited as the strangers removed the door-knob. Choking back her fear, she watched as they pushed open the door and tramped onto the carpet she was so careful not to soil. Chasing her into the bathroom as the TV people laughed, they shut the door. Silently, she heard them going through the house, room-by-room, taking paintings off the wall, taking furniture, taking her master’s bed. Taking. Taking. Taking.

Someone, she didn’t know who, opened the bathroom door just long enough to toss her blanket inside. He didn’t shut the door tight, and she peeked out as they left. She waited until there were no more sounds.

When, at last, the coast was clear, she slowly pushed open the bathroom door to see a house she no longer recognized as her own. Gone were the TV people. Gone was the Radio bird. Gone was the purring Refrigerator and all her treasures. Only the green and yellow parakeet in the cage, and Phone remained. But, Phone wasn’t saying much.

As darkness settled over the house, they waited. Then, once again, the door opened. Once again, a team of strangers entered the house. Finding her blanket, they carefully put it over the parakeet cage and walked toward her. Stepping back, defeated and alone, she laid down as they snapped a leash on her neck and muzzled her face. Where was her master, she wondered? Was all this because she had jumped on the bed? Was it because she had messed with Phone? Was it something the Radio bird sang about or, perhaps, was it was something the little TV people had said?

The dog didn’t know . . . but don’t you just wonder?