Writing Warm Up: Pet's Perspective

Write 7 minutes about yourself from your pet’s perspective (from 10 Writing Warm-Up Exercises)

Morning sun, comfy couch. Stretching, rolling on my back. 

Footsteps down the hall—no need to get up yet. Wait for breakfast. 

Water running, in that room I avoid. Bad room, don't trust it. If you get caught in there, then wet water in your fur, trapped behind glass, can't get out, water dripping, suds all over, no good, no good. Avoid. 

But no worries right now. Can't make me go in there. Safe out here. Almost breakfast time. 

She comes out, my person. Makes noises I ignore, but I see her walking towards my dish, so I stretch one more time, ease off the couch. Wag my tail to encourage her to keep this up. Positive reinforcement. 

She's singing the morning song, the breakfast song. I sit and throw up my paw because she always makes me do that. Don't know why, but it gets me food, so I'll do it. 

Food in my bowl! But first she squishes me, smothers my head, presses it against her cheek. Makes smacking noises. I let her. It's all part of morning.

She steps away and I watch her, just to make sure I've fulfilled my obligations.

"Go ahead!" 

FOOD. Chomp chomp chomp. Must get it all, must obliterate. It goes down, all the little pellets. Uh oh, hacking...too fast. I recover. Chomp chomp chomp. 

Licking my lips. Back into the living room. My person has taken over my couch, she's clacking away on the metal thing. I stand at the back door, staring at the glass, my tail moving back and forth. Doesn't she see me? Come on. Every morning. 

She's still clacking. Always clacking on the metal thing. We should go run in the yard, check out the bushes. 

Finally she gets up, opens the door. I burst out at a trot for a couple steps, then plop down in the sun, where I can keep an eye on my yard.