You knew what time it was- meds time. Every night after dinner, your owner, Simon, would give you a dose of the foul smelling and tasting medicine you’d been prescribed by the vet.

Usually, he’d catch you right after dinner, before you had a chance to run off and hide. Although sometimes, it involved him finding and dragging you out of whatever hiding spot you’d found for the day. The fight you put up almost always earned you a punishment, but being held down and having your mouth held open so Simon could administer the medication was arguably one all in its own.

Enter, today- where you’d eaten your dinner as quickly as possible and asked to be excused to the bathroom, to which Simon obliged.

You’d slipped out of your chair, clearing your plate and setting it in the dishwasher before booking it up the stairs as fast as you could.

Not half way up the stairs, you hear Simon’s bellowing voice- full of anger and frustration.

“PET, WE BOTH KNOW FULL WELL THERE’S NO REASON FOR YOU TO NOT USE THE DOWNSTAIRS BATHROOM.” He yells, and you only scramble up the steps faster, not even checking to see if Simon’s following.

As you cram yourself into your chosen hiding place, you hear Simon’s voice ringing out through the house again.

“IF I DON’T HEAR THE SINK RUNNING AND YOU’RE NOT BACK DOWN HERE IN 5 MINUTES, YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET IT.”

The words leave you ridged in your hiding spot, but you don’t move. Slowly, the 5 minutes pass, although it feels like hours. True to his word, once your time is up, you hear the sound of Simon storming up the stairs and stopping at the top to yell at the general upstairs.

“DOLL, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU.” He yells, stoning into the room you’re hiding in, and god- you can tell he’s pissed.