Lately, Dumpling had made a hobby out of scratching the couch.
Every evening, Mia came home to a few fresh claw marks. She could never stay mad at him, but she would look at the battered armrest and sigh. “At this rate, there won’t be much couch left when everyone comes over for the holidays.”
That weekend, Mia brought home Pumpkii, a little device that sent a red dot darting across the floor.
Dumpling immediately crouched low, eyes wide and tail twitching. He chased the dot around the living room—under the chairs, along the curtains, and across every sunny patch on the hardwood floor.
By the time the game ended, Dumpling was curled up in the afternoon sun, purring himself to sleep. He didn’t even glance at the couch.
Mia ran her hand over the untouched armrest and smiled.
“Looks like you finally get the day off.”