The moment I hear a knock, I know that I’m about to be swung wide open. I anticipated it; sometimes, I even relish at the thought of it.

They come, and they go; off to do whatever it is they do in the mornings. But they always come back, weary and exhausted, sometime later along the day. It seems as if they are a creature of habit, well, for those who return, anyway.

Among this tribe of seemingly-intelligent animals, I feel like I belong... but only to exist; to serve a purpose.

There is always a knock, that is true. Someone from the other side answers the call. The creature from the outside passes through.

I’ve always been there for them; doing my part; obliging.

But, sometimes I wonder... if a knock would ever be addressed to me. Maybe, I won’t be noticed; perhaps they just don’t care. Regardless, I’d still do what they ask me to.

It’s not like I could go anywhere, anyway.