Dear friends of all species:
A few weeks ago, when Dogdad was away in Cali for nigh ah, and Jake and Mom and I went upstairs to bed, I did something I had never done before: I ran straight into the shower, looked up at the ceiling, put my paws on the wall, and barked and barked and barked.
Since that was brand-new behavior for me, Mom was perplexed -- resulting in several telephone calls back and forth between Flori-duh and Cali for nigh ah.
Not knowing what else to do, Mom eventually lured me out and closed the French door between the bedroom and the dressing room/bathroom and, although I stopped barking after awhile, I sat by the closed door for almost an hour, and finally fell asleep right there.
That was it for a few weeks until Dogdad was away over night in Puerto Rico and I repeated the frantic behavior.
Just as Mom was about to conclude that my unusual excitement was related to missing Dogdad -- and thinking that perhaps he was hiding in the ceiling or on the roof -- he came home and I started all over again. This time, it was at 3am that I decided to check out the bathroom with several loud barks -- enough to awaken the 'rents and disturb the peace and tranquility of our neighborhood. Not a good thing.
At first, they thought perhaps a critter had fallen through an exhaust vent on the roof -- but we have found no signs of any such critter.
Was it Lacie, who at one point said she was coming for a visit? Was it a frozen iguana falling from his perch? Did Santa finally make it to our neighborhood? We haven't a clue.
All I know is that at the moment I am canina non grata -- and fear for my future...
(Let it be known that while all this has been going on, Brother Jake, who usually supports me in my every barking adventure, has been comfortably ensconced in the rocking chair that he prefers, with nary a bark or a brk or a bk.)
All explanations and "get-out-of-jail" cards are welcome.