This morning, as I sit here at the desk checking emails, blogs, and headlines, I'm eating a bowl of Cinnamon Chex (which, to my happy surprise, tastes like Cinnamon Toast Crunch). As I get close to the bottom of the bowl, I wonder to myself if Sassy will hear the spoon scrape the bottom and run in to lick the last bits of taste left, or if I'll have to call her. Just as I'm putting the last bite into my mouth, I start to turn around toward the doo--
Whoa! (I rub my head after hitting in on the ceiling jumping so high in shock) She's been in here for awhile--staring intensely at my back, her nose about three inches from my right hip, eyes fully dilated in full focus on my cereal bowl. How long has she been sitting there? She wasn't there when I started eating! How did she manage to escape my peripheral vision, since the doorway is still just within my indirect view?
I'm starting to think we named her wrong. Perhaps a better name for her would be...
Thing That Goes Bump in the Night?
Rosie Cotton? (What? Hobbits are known for being able to move silently when they do not wish to be seen... Yes, I know, that makes me a geek, and yes, I'm okay with that.)