There are few things in life more enjoyable than a good, warm summer’s day.
At least, there are few things in life more enjoyable than a good, warm summer’s day if you ask Pauline Wayne.
Today happens to be one of those very good days. The sun is out, the sky is clear, and the grass on the White House lawn is sweet and tall. As the President’s cow, and the main provider of milk for the royal family, she’s allowed to spend the majority of her days doing, well, whatever it is she would like to do.
The last week has been filled with nothing but awful weather and rotten storms. Pauline Wayne is quite enjoying moseying around the White House lawn, and just relaxing.
As such, she’s particularly not happy when she rounds a bend and sees a doggie door.
Now, these doors are generally tucked into places where a door might actually be. Most often, they can be found against a wall, the base of a particularly large tree, tucked against a cupboard, or other such locations. Even for Presidential Pets like Pauline Wayne, who spend most of their day outside, they generally appear pressed flush against a fence, the barn, or the side of the White House.
So one might understand Pauline Wayne’s surprise and distress to find that this doggie door is just floating in the middle of the White House lawn.
The door is attached to nothing. A thick, brilliant purple glow wraps around the door. That’s attached to nothing, too.
Nervous at the strange sight, Pauline Wayne circles the door several times. There’s nothing on the front side of it, or the back side of it. The door is exactly large enough for her, a full grown Holstein cow, to step through it without any problems.
“Well,” she says, unable to hide the disappointment from her voice. “I suppose that is the end to my good, warm summer day.”
Because, as any member of the Presidential Pets would tell you, when the Room calls, you listen. Awful things could happen if you ignore the Room beckoning you and, quite frankly, Pauline Wayne has no interest in being the cause of awful things.
So she takes one last massive chomp out of the thick, sweet grass growing on the White House lawn, and then she pushes her way through the doggie door.
Stepping into the adjacent hallway is like stepping into a pool of cold water. It’s completely black, save for the path that Pauline Wayne is on. It’s also a very, very short walk.
That strikes her as unusual, but Pauline Wayne isn’t in the business of questioning things.
Oh, no, no, no. Pauline Wayne is in the business of getting her job done quick as can be, and then returning to spending a good day munching grass from the White House lawn.
Katelynn E Koontz – Author