I was at the edge of the yard by eight o'clock and I stayed there for an hour and a half.
Not doing nothing. I was being available. There is a particular way of standing that says I am here, and I would love to be asked, and I will not survive asking — and I have it down to an art. Slightly turned towards the busy part. Doing something with my paws so it does not look like waiting.
The thing I believed, and had believed for a very long time, was this: the fluffs who get picked are the ones somebody wants. So if nobody comes over, that is the answer, and it is politer not to make anybody say it out loud.
I watched Winky hand out four jobs. I watched Tidy pin up a plan. Nobody looked over. Which was, according to my rule, information.