She doesn't ever really sleep. If I make one noise in any part of the house, chances are she's already woken up. She starts her day when I do and expects me to end my day when she has. Amid a pandemic, her schedule is all mixed up and it's undeniably my fault. She had a routine and when I changed mine, it messed hers up! Her leisurely naps, alone time, and frequent snacking suddenly became were getting constantly disrupted with more exercise and never having a moment to herself. While she might've been enjoying it, she would've never admitted it. She's too independent and lives life on her terms. If she wanted to break the record for the world's longest nap, she could! If she wanted to bask in the sun by the window reflecting on the world, there was no one to stop her! When she had the house to herself, which to her felt quite often, the house was hers. It was once she started to settle into this newfound way of life, that she started to realize she could've been living the happiest life she'd ever had. That is, until one day, she heard a noise. Given, she's usually so even-tempered. Nothing ever bothers her and she works to better herself on a daily basis. For example, one time, she challenged herself to take the highest jump she ever could. However, a horrible miscalculation sent her crashing back down. She fumbled into a landing and nearly twisted her ankle! Yet, as strong-willed as she was, she didn't say a thing as she limped around the house for a week. But then, one night out of nowhere, in the middle of her beauty sleep, she heard a “BEEP!” It nearly shook her awake from a deep slumber. Soon after, she figured the noise stemmed from a dream and rolled back to sleep. Then, just as quick as her next breath, she heard it again. “BEEP!” This time it sounded louder. She jolted up so fast, flew out of bed, and started pacing back and forth. As her pacing slowed, her anxiety heightened as she looked down into the now eerie darkness of the unlit hallways. She stood silently, waiting for the worst but found nothing, and heard nothing more. However, for some reason, she knew deep down it wouldn't be the end of wherever or whoever that sound came from. Every muscle in her body tensed up and while you couldn't read the expression on her face, her stomach was in knots. She began to tremble from head to toe and at three in the morning, lied with one eye open staring at the door in fear that something or someone had gotten in the house. She tried to rest her head down but at this point, she realized she had to take some control of the moment if she was ever going to get a full night's rest again. She stood up, weary but courageous and searched the whole house. Creeping slowly as to not trigger the noise from repeating, she scanned every room from corner to corner, floor to ceiling. I would soon be recognized as the one at fault for this too. To provide some context, the beginning of quarantine was quiet. Everyone in the house settled into finding new hobbies or rediscovering old ones. For me, that was cooking. It was something I wanted to start practicing more and being stuck in the house freed up my schedule enough to fine-tune other skills. But first, I had to develop some skills to finetune. So naturally, it was soon after making a batch of bacon that the smoke alarm kicked in. The smoke alarms were new. They had been part of the random “home-improvements” made during the early stages of quarantine. Now every floor, every area potentially riddled for danger, had a fire alarm ready to let us know when the bacon was just a little too crispy. Necessary, but not appreciated by all. Unaware of where the sound was coming from, all she knew was that it was driving her insane. The sound rattled in her brain and she could hear it playing over and over. Anxiety and fear paralyzed her body. Her peace was shattered and all she wanted to do was curl up into the smallest version of herself. Realizing she was too small and physically incapable of putting a stop to the sounds, she sought shelter in the company of those she'd grown most fond of throughout the quarantine. Knowing, if she could get them to see the suffering she was enduring and the madness she'd been driven to, she'd be able to convince at least one person to help her put an end to it all. So, at 3:45 in the morning, in the middle of a pandemic, I noticed a small ball of trembling fur curled under my neck. Unable to settle her, we both stood up and proceeded to walk through the house just to realize the culprit had been the smoke alarms all along. At that moment, with her puppy eyes looking up at me, my only solution was to remove all the batteries. So I did. Thus, putting an end to her pandemic and learning two valuable lessons: never use old batteries for your smoke alarms and to remember that while we're all trying to get through this pandemic, the pets are going through entirely different experiences.