Water Bowls, Really?

#273/365 Paintings

I hear the door open. I hear the door close. I look up once, twice — as often as five times hoping so badly that it is my owner. People come out and adore me. They bring me water in coffee cups. Pleeeese, do I look homeless to you? Well I might be if they don’t come out soon and take me home. Water bowls and the swish of the door…oohs and ahhhs, and isn’t he so cute. They want me to kiss their faces. Not gonna happen. I reserve that kind of intimacy for my owner only. My toes hurt. I’ve been clenching them for hours in hope. Please come out, take me home. Take me home. One more water bowl from a stranger and I might have to pee in it. Sigh…