I'm Only Frightened of Things That Scare Me

They keep calling me a scaredy cat because of my reaction to the front door bell.

When I first came here Seb told me it was an alarm for something horrible happening and as soon as it sounds he bolts for the stairs and hides under the bed. Max tends to run behind the chair or the settee and I didn't know what to do so I decided to run and hide in the dining room.

No-one had told me this was a plan that only worked if the incoming threat went to the lounge or the upstairs. I was hiding in the dining room - in that little gap between the trolley thing that keeps food hot and the place where they put all their discs - when these big footsteps came clumping towards me. I knew it was bad by the noise of the feet. Two legs are funny aren't they. The nice two legs have dainty feet that don't make a lot of noise when they move about. The others sort of clump and stomp everywhere. I worked out two legs' noises by listening to their feet.

Anyway these clumps came towards me and I decided to run. I was making for the stairs when I saw these big trousers and a big heavy case in his hand. This was even worse than I had thought - someone coming with a case could only mean trouble for one of us. I had to tell Max and Seb quickly.

"Oh he's nice" boomed this voice as I shot through his legs narrowly avoiding an outstretched hand as he made a grab for me. Phew. made it. Then I heard the clatter and I turned to look and he had dropped his case and all these tools shot out across the floor and under the fridge and everywhere.

The two legs were making apologies and helping to pick things up. I turned back quickly and grabbed something and shot upstairs before anyone noticed.

Under the bed I told Seb about the happening. He jumped on the window sill and looked outside.

"Oh it's the gas man - he comes every year to make sure we can have warmth from those white things on the wall. He's OK; I'll just pop down and see him. He gives me a stroke while he fiddles with the black bits on the fire. He wipes his fingers on me so it doesn't show. Keeps my coat nice and black too."

Off he went leaving me feeling a bit foolish under the bed with this nice little screwdriver thing that seems to want to light up. Maybe I'll take it back to him next year if he comes again.