This happened back in my old condo.
My little ewok, Schekie, reportedly stayed for hours walking towards and away from the main door, waiting for me to come home. Every time he heard the sound of heels or footsteps, he would run towards the door, tongue out, wagging his tail.
As soon as I got home, Schekie welcomed me with playful scratches, jumps, and sweet kisses. But after ten minutes, he went back to the door and started crying.
Thinking that he wanted to pee outside, I automatically opened the door for him. But to my surprise, a millisecond after that, he ran swiftly out and all I caught a glimpse of last was his furry white tail disappearing at the end of the hallway.
I ran down eight flights of stairs calling out his name, “Schekie! Schekie, stop!!!” Schekie would normally stop when I tell him to. But it was obvious he didn’t have any plans of stopping. While running down, I was imagining horrible things: Schekie running out of the condo and forever be lost, Schekie running across the street and getting hit by a car, Schekie…
Oh… the little furball is right here at the top of the last flight of stairs before we reached the ground floor. I peeked downstairs and caught sight of the guard, “Abi, si Oreo?” (Where’s Oreo?). Oreo is the “condo’s cat”. I guessed it was him Schekie was running after. “Ayun, ma’am, tumakbo palabas. Hinahabol ni Schekie.” (Right there, ma’am, he ran outside. Schekie was running after him.)
I looked down at the guilty boy looking up at me with his tongue out. I slapped his bum twice and he seemed surprised when I did. “Bad boy! Bad boy, Schekie!”.
He continued looking up at me, tail not wagging and tongue not out. I sat on my legs and continued glaring at him, “I don’t like you, anymore.” And just like what he always does, Schekie continued looking on, as if he were talking with his eyes. “Oh, no! I don’t like you, anymore, Schekie!”
Three seconds of looking at me and, then, he gave me three single front-paw-pokes. (Okay, that’s cute) But I continued glaring at him, still.
Schekie, then, put his two front paws on top of my knees. “I don’t love you, anymore, Schekie.” He continued standing in this position, looking up at me with his, yes, puppy eyes. After a full twenty seconds, he got tired standing up so he sat down on the floor. But his front paws were still on my knees.
Okay, my baby’s tired. I stood up, still frowning at him, and said, “Come! Let’s go up.” I walked up the stairs ahead of him, checking from my peripheral view if he’s walking with me. Alright, he is. And he walked up the stairs side by side with me.
What a frolicsome, little twirp. You just really know how to pull Mommy’s reigns. 🙂