Betty sat on the ottoman and looked out the window. She had to pee. She saw a squirrel run across the grass. She watched another one follow it. She couldn’t hold her bladder any longer. She jumped down and padded to the front door. One paw stepped in a puddle. She squatted down and peed. It was a relief, but she was hungry.
By her food dish, Betty investigated. It was still empty. The bag with all of the food sat on a shelf that she couldn’t reach. She looked down at her dish again and sniffed it. The water dish was empty. She licked metal.
Betty went to the bedroom. She jumped up on the bed and spun a couple of times. She lay down in the disheveled blankets. She stared at the open doorway until her lids grew heavy. They slid down, pausing her awareness. She slept.
A commotion woke Betty immediately. Adrenaline surged through her gut. She used her ears to locate the threat. Outside. She saw pulsing lights in the hallway.
In the front room, she saw chaos outside the window. Red and blue lights fought to get inside. Two men walked by. Rhythmic pounding came from the door.
Betty yelled, “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”
