Why There’s No Privacy

I hear a banging sound and it’s interrupting my naptime. I go into the dining room and my little brother Salem is scratching and pounding on the bedroom door.

“Why are you pounding on the door?”

“Because our human closed it.”

“So?”

“So?! So?! What if she’s eating tuna and playing with a new catnip toy in there?”

I lift my paw, “Let me help you.”

10 thoughts on “Why There’s No Privacy

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