Hello. It is I, Penelope.
I have discovered something very important. Do you remember when Franklin told me to eat a dead lizard so I could go to France? He was wrong, of course, but I now know how to get to France, where I will eat French kibble, wear French sweaters during the winter, and learn to speak French.
Pretend we are not talking. Act as if you are looking around the yard. Maybe some of you can sit on the deck. I will speak quietly. Mom Mom must not know about this conversation.
I am seated next to some flowerpots on the ground beneath the deck.
The two pots on the left are new. The next one is old but intact.
Mom Mom moved the okay pot away from the deck to put in the daisies. I ran under the deck. I was shocked by what I saw. Steps! Steps always lead to a door. I am sure it is the door to France. Before I could continue to explore, I heard Mom Mom's plaintive cry: Penelope, where are you? Come back, Penelope.
I had been found out. I played innocent.
Now I wait. I plot; I plan; I scheme. When Mom Mom moves another pot, I must be ready. I do not know how long it takes to climb the steps to France. I need kibble for my journey.
I warn you: Do not tell Mom Mom about my plans. She will cajole me into staying.