I was sitting in my armchair one night watching the stars and the airplanes traverse the sky. I like to push the chair right up to the living room window each night so I can get a better view. But after I'm finished I always have to remember to move the chair back before I go to bed, otherwise Mr. Chips will get upset. In the morning he sunbathes in front of the window, which of course he can't do if my chair is in the way. He always makes a great fuss and won't stop until I move the chair away from the window. Then he'll nod his head approvingly and promptly make a comfortable space for himself in the beam of sun. He tends to spend most of his day pursuing his sun bathing activity. He says it makes his coat more luxurious. Occasionally I'll make a joke about Chihuahuas not having much of a coat to begin with, but Mr. Chips just rolls his eyes and pretends not to hear.

But this night Mr. Chips was off in some other room and I was by myself looking at the night sky. The power was out all across town so I could see even more stars than normal. My favorite pastime was to try and develop my own constellations. I had already made a constellation of Aristotle and a constellation of a cup of tea. My current project was to make of constellation of Mr. Chips and myself. So far I had gotten Mr. Chips' stars worked out, but was having difficulty with me.

Soon I heard Mr. Chips' clicking toenails on the linoleum floor. He hopped up on the armchair and began staring at my drawings. He asked what I was doing, and I replied I was making a constellation of the two of us. He stared quizzically at my sketchbook, cocked his head to the side and said that I had made his left ear too big. I told him that constellation-making was an imprecise science. He agreed. He then offered to bring each of us a scone from the kitchen. I told him that was a delightful idea and that if he'd fetch my slippers I'd be doubly pleased. He then replied that he was a tenant of this apartment just as much as me, and not a butler. When I replied that he didn't pay any of the rent he stomped off into the kitchen muttering something about my irrationality.

He came back shortly with two scones. I decided to let the slippers matter drop. He then curled himself up on my lap and began to nibble on his treat. I placed my scone on a table and picked my sketchbook back up. I fixed Mr. Chip's constellation so that the left ear was slightly smaller and proceeded to work on fitting myself into the picture.