A Real Snoop

People are always accusing me of snooping around. They say I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, that I should learn to mind my business. Of course, I ignore these critics because they don’t know what they’re talking about. My detractors have mistakenly labeled my natural curiosity as snooping. Has anyone ever called Columbus, Magellan, Armstrong, or Aldrin snoops? Of course not! They were all great explorers driven by curiosity, and so am I.

Life fascinates me. Adventure lurks behind every closet door, cabinet drawer, and item-laden shelf. I would be a fool not to explore my immediate domain and the world beyond. Today, while roaming the neighborhood, I discovered a stairway that took me to a neighbor’s house. The door was open, which for me was the same as an invitation to come in and have a look around.

I must say, the gentleman isn’t the tidiest person on the planet. Clothes lay tossed on a bedroom chair. Their odor was an immediate giveaway that he hadn’t done a wash in some time. His bed was unmade, and various papers were strewn around his desk. The bathroom was in a similar state of disarray, with bath towels on the floor and a countertop that hadn’t been wiped down since it was new.

Passing back through the living room, I picked up the powerful scent of stale cigarette smoke. The stench permeated the entire house, but it was stronger in this room. The man’s nose must be disconnected from his brain if that smell doesn’t make him gag. Time to move on.

His kitchen provided some interesting aromas. Maybe he thinks of himself as a gourmet chef, judging by all the bottles of spices arranged neatly on the countertop. His food may be tasty, but the dirty dishes in the sink drops his rating by several points. I’ve seen enough. It’s time to find a new place to explore, but where?

The answer came like a bolt from above. Through his kitchen window, I could see a flock of birds gathered in the courtyard below. Why had they come? What was the big draw? I squeezed back through the partially open door and rushed to the common area, stopping at the shadow’s edge. Birds are a skittish lot, poised to take flight at the slightest movement. I approached stealthily, hoping to stay undetected. It was not to be. As if by some telepathic signal, they all took wing simultaneously, exposing what had attracted them—bread crumbs. This was disappointing, so I moved on.

I wandered down main street looking into store windows and weaving around street vendors’ shops. It looked like boring would rule the day when I spotted it, a tall chain-link fence with a sign written in big bold letters—Beware of Dogs. This could be my find of a lifetime! If someone goes through the trouble of building a fence, then adds guard dogs, whatever they're protecting must be valuable.

Scaling this type of fence doesn’t take a lot of skill. The barbs along the top rail can be daunting, but once over, I was free to explore. This was more like it. Hundreds of junk cars parked bumper to bumper, dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Imagine all the treasures buried in trunks and back seats, waiting to be found. Now I understood why there was a fence around the place.

I was so enthralled I forgot about the warning sign. The guttural sound behind me quickly snapped me back to reality. Approaching from three sides was a pack of Rottweilers, saliva dripping from their snarling jowls as they were attempting to encircle me. Life might have gotten ugly if I hadn’t been quick to react. I sprang straight into the air and landed on the closest car roof.

Dogs may have powerful jaws, but they’re not very nimble. I vaulted from rooftop to rooftop, while the dogs ineffectively gave chase on the ground. Just as I was about to run out of car roofs, I spotted my salvation. A tree limb hung across the fence from a large oak on the other side. I leaped to it and pulled myself up and over, leaving the pack of frustrated dogs howling at the sky.

Exhausted from the day’s events, I dragged myself back home and quickly took a nap. It was about an hour later when my owner walked into the backyard and woke me.

“What a lazy cat! I bet you spent the day sleeping.”

He had no idea.