Today’s the day! Pack Leader says my ebook is out!
I sound excited but actually, I can’t find it. I sniffed all around the Den for this ebook thing, which is supposed to have my picture on it–no luck. Maybe my ebook is outside? I went to the door and whined, because it opens inward and I haven’t mastered how to do that by myself…yet.
Several heartbeats before Pack Leader realised it, I knew Computer had quit.
My big furry semaphore ears, damaged as they are by a life spent with humanity, had detected the loss of one thread of sound, one tiny voice, well before Pack Leader exploded.
“Huh? Son-of-a-Gottverkaltes-eine-kleine-SCHEIZE-geschicten-POTverdomma-maldita-seas!”
Credit where credit is due: humans curse more colorfully than any animals I know, except ravens.
Your mouse is dead, I yawned at Pack Leader. It has stopped squeaking. You need batteries.
In wolfish terms, it’s all rather amusing, isn’t it? Humans thinking a piece of plastic with chemical batteries in its tummy is anywhere near as interesting as a real, live rodent?
Pack Leader shook the mouse in my face. “Hear that?” she snarled in her best imitation of Alpha Wolf. “See that? Blue light! I may have lousy ears compared to yours but I assure you, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, this mouse squeaketh just fine!”
I shrugged. Okay, the keyboard, then. Somewhere, the batteries stopped singing.
Pack Leader stopped yelling at cantankerous old Computer and returned to her Chair of Pain and Pleasure. She picked up the keyboard, turned it upside down and shook it, while yelling at it: “You lousy piece of….” You get the idea.
The keyboard must have been scared enough to loosen its sphincter muscles, because it dropped the equivalent of 59 gourmet mouse meals on the desk.
“Holy—!” said Pack Leader.
Nope. I moved close to inspect. Not holy—just nasty. Let the mice have it, because if there’s one talent real mice have, it’s turning nasty old bits of cuisine into fast food on four feet.
“Maybe I should take this opportunity to clean the keyboard,” said Pack Leader. “Since I must wait until tomorrow to buy new batteries. It does look a little…gross.”
Ya think? I commented, turning around three times on my cushion. There would clearly be a delay before our Salute to the Stars, a.k.a. evening w-a-l-k-i-e-s.
