Abandon Ship

I am a coiled spring. I spring to life from a dead sleep in order to alert the neighborhood of a slamming car door two blocks away, I can hear (and respond to) a peanut butter jar opening despite being outside and otherwise preoccupied chasing a squirrel, and seconds after the cheese drawer opens in the kitchen I can be found right by the snacker's side.

But perhaps even more impressive than my ability to quickly respond to a situation involving an intruder or food is my ability to spring into action when my own self-preservation is on the line.  Allow me to explain with two specific examples:

The Fire Alarm:

I'm not insinuating that their cooking is bad (actually, it is usually very good), but my family has a habit of accidentally setting off the fire alarm when roasting a large piece of meat or a particularly fatty bird.  Now, the logical response to the smoke detector's sudden sirens and mechanical female voice shouting "fire, fire, fire" would be to gather one's belongings and quickly vacate the premises.  Well, my family doesn't do that.  Instead, they split up: one person opens the window in the kitchen, the second person grabs a dish towel and begins fanning the smoke away from the smoke detector, and the third person gets a step-stool and takes down the screeching, talking, flying saucer like device.

Now, I frequently worry that my family is not taking a potentially serious threat seriously when it comes to the smoke detector.  The smoke detector isn't like someone telling you to sit or stay or lie down or say "howdy."  You don't just smile at the smoke detector and pretend that you don't understand what it is saying.  No, you react.  Here's what I do:

As soon as the mechanical female voice issues her first warning of "fire," I jump up and head straight for my favorite toy which I pick up in my mouth.  With my toy now secured, I quickly make one attempt at herding my family toward the nearest exit.  As I am not a herding dog and herding my family is like herding a group of cats, I usually fail miserably at this endeavor.  Then it's on to Plan B; I head toward the door, toy in mouth, and anxiously wait for someone to come and open the door for me (yes, my escape is hindered by the lack of a thumb).  And what happens if no one opens the door for me?  I start pacing, hoping that someone will notice my concern and finally wake up to the potentially deadly situation that is ongoing.

Now that is the proper way of dealing with a fire alarm!

Attack from Above:

It was two o'clock in the morning and I was hours into a very pleasant dream in which I was chasing squirrels through a huge backyard while taking periodic breaks to eat Milkbone flavored ice cream.  Suddenly, there was a fluttering sound and something landed right next to where I was standing.

"The sky is falling!" I thought.

I was at the zenith of jumping ten feet straight up in the air from my initial prone sleeping position when I fully woke up.  And when I landed back on my pillow, out of breath and completely on edge, I immediately went into emergency evacuation mode.  I quickly scanned the room.  Both Ma and Pa were awake--the combination of the fluttering sound and my crash landing woke them--so I figured that they were smart enough to get themselves out of the building on their own.  I only had to focus on getting myself out of the house.

My Light-Up Squeaky Ball

Next to me lay my new favorite squeaky ball (it used to light up and squeak, but now it only hisses when I chomp down on it but it is still good).  I scooped it up and made a beeline to the side door.

Within seconds of reaching the door, Ma came up behind me.  She told me that everything was okay and that I should go back into the bedroom and "check out" what scared me (I later found out that what had fallen was the dust jacket to Pa's book--a breeze caused by Pa shifting his blankets must have dislodged it from its spot on the night table and sent it hurtling to the ground).  I wasn't falling for it, though.  There was a threat and I was determined to abandon ship while I still had the chance.

Eventually, Ma made a deal with me.  She agreed to take me outside to do business if I agreed to come back in afterward.  I wasn't happy about it, but nature won out and I was committed at that point.  Once I was done, I cautiously returned to the bedroom and lay down on the far side of the room; far away from my pillow and the scene of the crime.