Nogard, lives under my bed. He shreds anything, everything, that touches the floor after having been on a human body, even if only for a moment. I’ve started leaving my laundry basket on the foot of my bed, hoping against hope that at least one pair of my underwear will be saved from his fangs.
His fur fluffed feet pitter patter, claws clip clipping on the hardwood and I know he is coming. I turn over, yanking the covers and sheet over my head. He always comes right before the sun streams through the window, panting and whining and demanding human attention. The basket forgotten, neglected, bounces to the floor, rolling the once clean clothes, including underwear, into a path of fresh smells and victims for he, the Sock Demon, Nogard.
I doze for a while longer, missing his snuffling and growling and happy yips as he demolishes my surviving under garments and tucks into a pair of jeans. He nests there, ignoring my half screams when I finally stop hitting snooze. Nogard is content with a belly full of cotton. His brown barely visible eyes peer up at me from between his gray black eye brows, questioning when he might be taken out for a walk to pee?
Sarah Ockershausen Delp