A plea to the man in the safety glasses

Please, please, oh please, do not leave the doors in our house open. Please? Please. I beg you. Is it too much to ask you to make sure the doors are closed behind you? A simple request, really. I don't mean to be a bother. I'm perfectly okay swatting away the flies and mosquitos that have invaded our home. And I'm more than happy to swelter in the stifling heat that has rushed in through open doors. But I cannot bear to watch another pet run away. I have endured too many close calls, only to find my furry friends safe from harm, somehow shielded in an armor of luck. Tonight, however, I am in despair over the loss of my dear friend Max. I miss his yearning cries when he's hungry, his smooth and slinky body rubbing against my legs, his graceful form jumping from couch to couch. I won't be able to sleep very well tonight, nor will I be able to go about my business tomorrow, without worrying about his welfare and hoping that we'll be reunited soon.

Please close the doors. Please?