At five o'clock in the morning, the lights start to go on throughout the house. The Lady of the house walks from the bedroom into the bathroom, turning on the lights in the kitchen and the dogs' room, then back to the kitchen, right past me. She starts the kettle, sets up her travel mug and then the dog's treat containers. She goes into the bedroom, gets dressed, and comes back out, turning the light off in the bedroom. She continues to fix the travel mug and her lunch box, then takes the dogs out for their walk. And there I sit, on the table, waiting to see if I will be chosen to go with her today.
She comes back in with the dogs, unhooks them from the tether, and they run off to the backroom, she picks up the treat containers and follows them in. I hear her talk to them and secure them in their pens. I can just see the corner of the red dog's pen as she pulls it door to door with the black and white one's pen, as it's been known to escape, just as the red has.
She comes back out, grabs her travel mug and her lunch box, puts a bottle of water in it, a banana from the fridge and a packet of tuna. I just watch as she turns out the light, goes out the front door, and I can hear the locks turning with the keys.
Hours go by, and the sun comes beaming in through the window, lighting the whole place. Soon, the man of the house unlocks the door, opens it, and comes in, shutting the door behind him. He puts his lunch box away, his drink can in the refrigerator and goes to the backroom to get the dogs out. He hooks them on their tether and takes them out for a walk.
When he comes back in, he is dishevelled, his hair is a mess, his glasses have grass on them, his pants are stained with grass, his arms are all scratched up, and his hands look like they were put under a meat tenderiser. He unhooks the dogs and goes to change clothes in the bedroom, quickly comes out and walks to the kitchen. He turns on the kettle, then walks to the sink to wash the dishes. He puts the washed dishes into the drainer, fixes himself a cup of tea, puts a scoop of food in the dogs' dishes and achingly sits down at the desk. He turns it on and starts playing games on the computer.
Soon, the Lady of the house comes in the door. She puts her satchel on the chair next to her desk, then sorts out her lunch bag, throwing trash in the bin and refilling her water bottle, putting it in the fridge. The man asks how she did as he gets up and prepares the cups of tea. She states 102, whatever that means. The man replies that he did 100. I don't know what they do when they leave the house; I don't get to go with either of them.
Suddenly, one of the dogs starts racing back and forth through the house. He accidentally bumps the table leg, and I'm knocked out of my shallow fruit bowl, but I don't roll off the edge. I watch as the dog races through the house 3 more times, then lies down next to an air vent for the cold air. The Lady fixes herself a sandwich of honey wheat bread, mayonnaise, spinach and turkey slices, then goes and sits down at the desk. The other dog goes and grabs her ball, comes over to the Lady and 'talks' to her with the ball in her mouth, which sounds very funny. The Lady laughs and rubs the dog on the head, then takes the ball and throws it, almost hitting me. I have to 'play possum' until nighttime so they don't' see my antics.
The man is constantly messing and playing on the computer, and his phone and has his headphones on over his ears. The Lady says something to him and he doesn't hear her, so she puts her headset on her ears and starts talking to someone on there, a female, it looks like from the picture, so probably her girlfriend in Cape Cod, Massachusetts, whatever that is. She starts working on different things on the computer, and the red dog comes over to her and puts his paw on her leg, which usually indicates he wants to go outside.
They're good dogs, they don't mess in the house, and the red one actually saved their lives a few days back. Early one morning, he was nudging and pawing at them while they were in bed sleeping, so I heard them saying. I remember that day, it wasn't even sunrise, the oven started beeping, and no one was up at the time. The door to the bedroom opened, the red dog shot out and sat about 6 feet away from the front of the stove and growled. The Lady came out, looked at the stove, walked over, praised and petted the red dog, then walked to the stove. She put her hand on top and then yanked it away because she said it was hot. She opened the oven door and was accosted in the face by a wave of extreme heat. I could feel it from where I was on the table. The Lady informed the man that the oven was overheating. I've never seen him move so fast. He came out of the bedroom with his lounge pants on and walked, almost to the point of running, right through the kitchen into the back bedroom and then kept asking her to tell him when the stove was off. After a few clicks, it was finally off. That could have been disastrous and burned down the house, they said. The red dog got lots of praise and treats for that, and of course, the black/white dog got some too, can't leave her out.
The Lady then gets up, starts to fix a quick dinner, takes the dogs out again, the man makes more tea in their mugs and goes back to the computer. The Lady comes back in with the dogs, unhooks their tethers, and then finishes up fixing and serving dinner. I don't understand why they don't eat at the table with me. I'm not spoiled or bruised, I don't smell bad, at least I don't think I do. The man does everything at the computer, eats, drinks, it's a wonder he doesn't sleep there. The Lady, however, is not tethered to the computer and is usually bouncing up and doing something, then going back to what she was working on. And here I sit, all alone, on the table, such is the view of life from an apple on the kitchen table.