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Whoever they are.

And like who could they even be?!

It’s not Girl Scout cookie season.

It’s not Boy Scout popcorn time.

Or…is it?

I’m never sure with them.

I have significantly less interest in that than I do cookies and so does Noodle.

When the doorbell rings a third time – seriously who rings someone’s doorbell that many times – I toss my device to the side, hop up, and transfer Noodle into my arms like the guard cat he is.

His size alone tends to scare most people off, and once he opens his mouth to meow and they hear his commanding bass voice – unusual for Maine coons I’ve read – they typically rush away forgetting whatever it is they came to bother me for.

Exception?

The pizza people.

However, his guard dog like presence is enough to make the exchange super brief.

During the short cross to the front door, I whisper, “Do that thing where you look super regal but also super menacing.”

His golden eyes latch onto mine as if offering a sarcastic response.

“No. Not the sassy one. The scary one.”

Solid knocks suddenly reverberate around my small home indicating the uninvited visitor has moved onto the next attempt to get my attention.

Unfortunately for me, the lack of a peephole on the front door, leaves me no choice but to crack it open to get a glimpse at the persistent individual that most likely wants to sell me something I don’t need, which I don’t need.

Social media ads do that enough.

I mean…come on.

Did Noodle really need the Taj Mahal of water fountains?!

Obviously not.

Was I excited to support a small, black-owned business?

Of course!

That’s why I bought two of them.

I…donated…the second to a local pet shelter.

They appreciated it.

Plus, it was charitable tax right off or whatever.

“Teach.”

Shock sends my jaw to the ground and swings the door wide open. “Hogan?!”

Casually sliding his hands into his jean pockets is attached to a crooked smirk. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say my name.”