Seeing birdies

So... I rarely close the door to the office, which is at the bottom of a flight of stairs. But tonight, Henry's kitten, Bruce, was causing trouble.  For those just tuning in, meet Bruce:

Henry and his kitten snuggle

See, Bruce is five and a half months old and, as such, a rapidly growing boy.  He. Eats. Everything. Cat food. Dog food. Dog treats... As a matter of fact, Henry and Bruce both know the cookie jar very well--- Bruce knows the sound of it opening and Henry knows he gets a treat when Bruce runs to the jar. 

Boys, begging for treats.

Well, Bruce's appetite is so veracious that he often eats all of the food in the cat bowl; the big cats, who like to eat some and come back for more later, are left with an empty bowl upon their return. Tallulah and Marley, although plenty capable of pushing that lil' squirt out of the way, put on their whiny passive pants and cry to mom instead.

 So today, we decided that they would have some solo time in the office to eat their noms without treat of Bruce's appetite. Their food is in the office at the bottom of a flight of stairs. I closed the door and locked the kitten out. 

In his puppy nature,  Henry usually skips the last 3-4 stairs in the flight and jumps across the landing into the office, especially while running laps. Mr. Henry likes to do laps twice a day. (Does anybody else have a pup who gets the zoomies after emptying the tank?)  After coming in from a good squat, we heard a giant thud and my pup came running in looking confused.

Henry would like to know, "Who closed the door?" He's surely seeing double and has severely bruised his ego after careening head first into the structure. He is now strategically stationed within my line of sight, so I'm sure to notice just how sad he is. Poor guy never saw it coming. Bruce has yet to apologize; he's too busy protesting his lock out. The door has also made it out unscathed, despite odds being sorely out of its favor. #nopuppieswerehurtinthemakingofthisblogentry