Animals

The Mail Animal

Today in the mail there were two envelopes addressed to Pure Luck and me, from the revenue services of two non-contiguous states in which he filed 2005 income tax returns. I put them on his computer desk. I didn’t look at them closely, just figured his desk was a better place for them than the kitchen table (my home office of sorts).

This evening we went out to a school event and were gone for a couple of hours. After we returned, Pure Luck asked, "Did you move those envelopes?"

"You mean after I put them on your desk?"

"I mean after I put them on the coffee table."

There’s a coffee table against the wall under the windows in his office.

"I didn’t even know you put them on the table."

He indicated a clipboard. "I put them right there."

"What do you suppose happened to them?"

Sam looked dolefully at us from the dirty old futon sofa that has become a giant dog bed.

"I think Sam may have eaten them."

Now, given that Sam chewed up part of the holiday card meant to go to the Phantom Scribbler household, it’s no news that  he eats paper from time to time. But there was no trace of the envelopes that I could see.

"Sam? Did you eat them?"

His solemn expression gave nothing away.

"Wait!" cried my husband.

"What is it?"

"It’s a piece of one of those envelope windows."

Sigh. Do you suppose he was jealous that Molly got to go to church today? Because I think eating the mail and leaving almost no trace is a tad passive aggressive.

Sam? Has no comment.

6 thoughts on “The Mail Animal”

  1. Best of luck, Sam. I have a habit of eating (or just ripping) whatever paper Jane Dark is working on, but I have never eaten a whole envelope — it won’t fit inside my kitty belly.

  2. I spent a whole morning just before Christmas trying to reconstruct a Rather Important Document that Dillon (God bless him) had shredded as it arrived through the letter box. Said box now has a basket attached, which is padlocked shut. This tends to mean that I can’t read the mail, cos I can’t find the key…but Dillon can’t deal with it either.
    Sam, your partner in crime salutes you!

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