“One of these days I could enroll to become an astronomer,” mused Turbo.
The plump little brown and black Yorkshire terrier stretched out on the dinning room table, and moodily chewed at a page of Marina’s homework on the planets.
She had embarked on the set essay over an hour ago, and seemed exceedingly harassed. Turbo opened an eye and cocked an ear. Marina queried her father about the planet Jupiter, obtained her answer, distractedly knocked over the ink, and shouted at God.
Turbo mused on the scene and pushed himself up first on his front paws and then his back ones. “No meal for me”, he thought, moodily “not until Marina’s finished, at any rate”. The ink spill was spreading and, to save his fur and well – combed paws Turbo, leapt off the table onto a chair and made for the murky light of the bedroom closet. At least there he could be sure of some peace amongst the clothes and shoes.
The next thing he knew, he was staring at himself floating effortlessly past the stately planet Jupiter.