Catching Fire

No, she isn't Katniss Everdeen but Heather Beather knows a thing or two about a different kind of hunger game: the kind where Scottie Mom sleeps in a few minutes later than scheduled on weekends and sets Heather on a scavenger hunt for nourishment. Nose pressed to the ground, Heather Beather searches every nook and cranny of The Scottie House, hoping to find a scrap of food here and there. She checks every door, hoping someone left one of the bathroom doors partially closed again so she can raid the trash bins and munch on some TP fresh off the roll. If that fails, she sits at the bottom of the stairs, contemplating whether or not to disturb the peace before deciding that the hunger in her belly really is catching fire and the situation needs to be addressed immediately.

Up the stairs she goes. There's a soft clap, clap, clap of her Scottie claws touching the floor. Both bedroom doors are closed. She sits and waits. Surely, Scottie Mom heard her coming up the stairs. She sniffs under the door, making an effort to huff and puff a little louder than usual to wake Scottie Mom. No luck. She nudges the door with her snout. It doesn't budge. Heather Beather trots down the stairs to enlist the help of Mr. K, who's always up for some mischief. Time to start the hunger games, Heather says. Mr. K gets out of the Scottie bed, shakes off sleep and stretches his muscles. He lets out the battle cry, which sounds like a cross between a yawn and a half-woken 'ArRRroO," and follows Heather Beather to the stairs. Confident the battle cry awakened their hoomans, they wait at the foot of the stairs. But, much to their surprise, they don't come.

Outraged, the two Scotties plan their rebellion. Now, it isn't just one Scottie affected by hunger in the belly - it's two! Scottie Mom is now eight minutes behind schedule. Mr. K does a perimeter check, making sure Heather Beather didn't miss out on any opportunities to find grub. Nothing turns up. Together, they circle Scottie Island - the magical place in which the food is kept - like sharks. Each takes a turn trying their paw at the door. When that fails, they put their heads together and decide to race up the stairs - clap, clap, clapping their claws on the floor as loudly as they can. When they get to the door, Heather gives Mr. K the signal and he declares war on the sleeping hoomans: "Aaarf!"

There's movement behind the door. The two Scotties get ready for battle. That door will open any moment. Who will they have to challenge? Scottie Mom or Scottie Dad? Or both! Footsteps are getting closer. Heather and Mr. K back up, ready to charge the door in protest of their mistreatment the minute it opens. The doorknob turns. Suddenly, Scottie Mom is there but instead of adding fuel to the rebellion's fire, she surrenders, falls to the floor to present kisses and asks Heather and Mr. K if they are ready to eat. Yes! Success at last. Heather and Mr. K nod and accept the peace offering before leading the way to the kitchen. After they feast, Mr. K asks Heather if they took the rebellion too far. Heather doesn't think so. After all, it's no game when it comes to hungry, hungry Scotties.