“I hate cats!” Harper stood on her hind legs watching stray cats out the large front bay window. “They’re always using our lawn for a litter box. Grrr!” She plopped her front legs onto the floor and slunk toward the rear patio door. She was always on guard, watching the front and back of the house.

As she approached the sliding door, she spotted a gray cat on the back deck. Harper ran full speed toward it. When she planted her feet to stop, she slid into the clear door with a hard thunk! The cat startled and ran down the deck steps across the yard and out the back. Harper chuckled inside as she stood watching the gray animal disappear. “Stupid cat!” If only she had a doggie door, she’d show that cat a thing or two. But she knew why she didn’t have her own entrance/exit. Her mom, Kelly, wouldn’t take any chances of anything happening to Harper, and if she had a doggie door and got out of the house without a leash, she would chase every stray cat far from her neighborhood. She knew her mom was afraid Harper wouldn’t come back.

She lay on the floor, keeping watch until she heard a noise at the front of the house. She rose and dashed back to the bay window. “Ah, a van. I know what that means.” She watched until a man stepped out of the van and started walking toward her house, a couple packages in his hand. “Woof … woof! Woo – woo – woof!” Harper’s bark started low but increased in volume as the man drew closer.

To Harper’s disappointment, the man never looked toward the window where she stood, watching. He simply put the packages on the stoop, pointed his phone at them, pushed a button, then turned and strode back to his van, climbed in and drove away. Harper moved to the love seat where she jumped up and curled into a ball, disappointed that she’d failed to frighten the delivery man.

After a nap, she rose, climbed down from the love seat and returned to the window to look out once again. Movement to her left caught her eye and her heartbeat quickened. Two of her friends were out in their yard next door. Tequila and Whiskey, a reddish brown female Cavapoo and a curly haired white dog of which breed, neither her nor her mom knew. Harper attempted to jump onto the wide windowsill and barked.

“Harper, no.” Her mom commanded.

Harper tried again, this time knocking a couple of mom’s snowman knickknacks crooked, then trying to bite one of mom’s plants that was on the windowsill. Uh-oh, approaching footsteps. That meant mom was coming.

Sure enough, Mom arrived, hovered over Harper, and looked out the window. “Harper, you know Tequila and Whiskey. There’s no need to get so excited. Leave my plants alone, and look what you’ve done to my snowmen. Now get down!”

Harper placed her front paws back onto the floor and walked to the front door, where she rung her bell.

“No, you don’t have to go out to potty. You only want to go out because two of your friends are out.” Mom stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Harper hung her head and returned to her comfy spot on the loveseat. Foiled again!