I walk into the living room and see a small pile of treats sitting by the window sil. “Well, well, what do we have here?” There’s a note. “Merry Christmas, Salem. Love Shorthair.”
I sniff the treats a couple of times. They don’t smell like tuna, but who am I to argue with free treats? Two bites later and they’re gone. I turn and see Salem walking towards me.
“What. Are. You. Doing?”
“Nothing,” I mumble.
My lie unravels quickly as crumbs fall from my mouth. Salem’s eyes turn into tiny little slits.
I gulp, “Okay, okay. You caught me. I was eating some treats I found by the window.” I slowly move to the left and cover the note with my butt.
“Oh. Next time, share,” he points a paw at me and walks away. That went oddly well.
An hour later my stomach isn’t feeling so good and I begin to yak like nobody’s business. I throw up everywhere. I can’t stop. I swear, a marble I ate as a kitten came back up. My tummy finally starts to settle down and out of the corner of my eye I see Salem laughing.
As the realization of what happened hits me, I lie down, too weak to chase him. Revenge will just have to wait. “Well played, little brother. Well played.”