There are adorable twin boys who live next door. They are 4 years old and have an equally darling 3 year old sister.
Pancake cannot stand them.
I think this is because they are very close to the ground, almost as close as she is. They are also loud and like to shriek every question and comment, such as, ‘WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” WHAT DOES PANCAKE EAT FOR BREAKFAST? WHY ARE THERE STEPS IN YOUR APARTMENT?”
We ran into them this morning, Pancake and I. She was dying to go out, as she knew we were off to her favorite place, Sutton Paws – where she enjoys a good ten hours of running around and pooping wherever she likes. I opened the door at the same time as the kids and their nanny. Pancake was the epitome of calm: she paused as if she realized she’d forgotten her keys and reversed her usual zoom to the elevator. She casually avoided any eye contact with the wee ones who were careening toward her, their small fingers outstretched and pulsing with 4 year old energy. Then she walked back into the apartment. “We’ll take the next elevator,” I told our small neighbors.
Pancake waited in the apartment until the elevator door closed. Then she nodded at me. We made our way to Sutton Paws where she was among her own more civilized folk. Thank goodness.