Secret Society of Idiots

I walk into the kitchen, ready for a little snack, and peer down into my empty food dish. Why does my human hate me? I shake my head and make my way into the living room.

“Wha?” I stop and stare, stunned. There, chatting and laughing it up through the living room window, is my little brother Salem and some scraggly looking alley cat from down the block.

All of a sudden, the AC (alley cat) spots me out of the corner of his eye. His eyes narrow to slits and he stops talking and smiling and points a steady paw in my direction. Salem turns and glances at me. He smirks and looks back at the AC. And there, through the glass, they exchange some curious movements that involve a turn, a butt wiggle, a high five paw move that ends with a tapping together of their right paws in unison through the glass window.

Why, was that a secret paw shake? Does my goofy, stupid, smelly little brother belong to some secret society that I am unaware of? And worse yet, not privy to membership in? My stomach churned. They probably just sit and watch each other drool. Or chase their own tails like dogs, what idiots, what imbeciles. I want in. Every fiber of my being wants in. Oh, he will rue the day!

Salem raises his tail and starts to strut off without even acknowledging me.

“Uh, hmm,” I snort.

With all the fake innocence he can muster, he asks, “What?”

“What was that?”

“What?”

My anger rises inside me, incensed by the humilation of being excluded and now ignored. “Who was that? Are you in a secret club?” I bore my eyes into him, willing him to spill the beans with my brain waves.

He lays his paw on his chest, “Me? No. Why ever do you ask?”

“Arghh!!!” I shake with fury. Salem saunters off and I vow I will find out what he is up to. I will have him begging me to join and just when he’s on his knees crying, I will reject him in a fit of laughter and then walk away forever the superior feline.

Now, where do I begin? I think I need some tuna and maybe a nap first.