Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve : The Family Was Not Allowed to Laugh Without Him

Topsy had a strange idea about family time.

If everyone was together, he had to be there too.

It didn't matter what we were doing.

If we were sitting together and talking, Topsy wanted to know why he wasn't included.

If we were laughing, he wanted to know what was so funny.

And if we somehow managed to enjoy ourselves without him—

well, he had something to say about that.

One day, all of us were sitting together inside the house, talking and laughing.

Topsy wasn't with us.

The gate was closed, and he was outside.

At first, he stayed quiet.

Then we heard it.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Someone looked toward the gate.

Topsy was scratching at it.

He clearly had no intention of accepting the fact that his family was inside without him.

He scratched again.

And again.

It was almost as if he was saying,

“Excuse me? What exactly is happening in there?”

We laughed.

That only seemed to make him more determined.

He scratched at the gate again.

We eventually opened it.

The moment the gate opened, Topsy came inside as if he had been waiting for his invitation.

He walked straight toward the hall where everyone was sitting.

He looked at all of us.

"Then he lay down and released a deep breath. It was like he was taunting us: Why do you take so much time, or are you deaf or something?"

Finally.

He was where he wanted to be.

Surrounded by his family.

For a little while, he simply watched us.

Everyone continued talking.

Someone laughed.

Topsy lifted his head.

We laughed again.

And suddenly—

BARK!

We looked at him.

He barked again.

It was almost impossible not to laugh.

His expression seemed to say,

“What are you laughing at?”

We laughed even more.

And Topsy barked again.

He hadn't done anything.

He wasn't hungry.

Nobody had called him.

He simply wanted to be part of whatever was happening.

It was as though he couldn't understand why the family was having a good time without involving him.

So he made sure we noticed him.

And once he had everyone's attention, he settled down again.

That was Topsy's way.

He didn't like being left out.

He wanted to be around us even if he wasn't doing anything.

Sometimes he would simply lie down nearby while everyone talked.

He didn't need anyone to play with him.

He just wanted to know that everyone was there.

And if the conversation became too interesting without him, he would remind us of his presence.

A bark here.

A look there.

Sometimes a little movement toward whoever was laughing.

It was almost like having a family member who refused to miss a single conversation.

Only Topsy couldn't actually understand what we were saying.

Or perhaps he understood more than we thought.

Because whenever we laughed, he would look at us as though he genuinely wanted to know what had happened.

And whenever we ignored him for too long, he found a way to interrupt.

He had become part of our family conversations without ever saying a single human word.

His language was different.

But we understood it.

That evening, after making enough noise to remind us that he existed, Topsy finally settled down.

He lay there watching everyone.

The room became lively again.

People talked.

People laughed.

And Topsy stayed right in the middle of it all.

Exactly where he wanted to be.

Looking back at that little scene, the funniest part wasn't even his barking.

It was how seriously he took his position in the family.

He didn't consider himself an outsider watching everyone else.

He considered himself one of us.

So if the family was together, Topsy had to be there.

If everyone was laughing, he had to investigate.

And if the gate was closed between him and his people, he would simply scratch until someone opened it.

Because according to Topsy, there was no such thing as family time without Topsy.