Ever since I lived in Southern California for all those years, I still have the habit of putting a box fain in a window of a hot room to give it some air flow. Yesterday the box fan fell out of the window in the bedroom, and Zoey was pretty sure that it was coming to kill all of us, and that it was vitally important that none of us sleep until we escape the killing fields for a safer room. She kept going to the door, and I can almost picture what she was trying to tell me:
"Pet! Pet! Use your thumbs to open this door and help us escape the BOX FAN OF DOOM!"